No One Can Know
by Lady Viola Delesseps
Summary: The journal of a young Severus Snape, who lived at Spinner's End, Hogwarts, and in the heart of Lily Evans, the only person who was ever kind to him. Her friendship was what kept him in defense of the dark arts and his unrequited love what was drove him to become one of the darkness itself, dooming their relationship for longer than either of them could have foreseen.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This story is dedicated to Bloody Phantom, who encouraged me to write freely in this fandom, even though I am new to it. It begins slowly, but the entries will get longer as our character matures... Thanks for reading, and review if you are so inclined! -Viola**

* * *

Hello. I have nothing really to write, but I was recommended to begin a journal. I can almost guarantee that this will be both the beginning and concluding entry, but nevertheless I will try, because I do like to please people, if I can. It's only that it almost never works, so sometimes I feel like giving up trying. My name is Severus Tobias Snape. I am eleven. No one believes me. They either think I am much younger, because I am small, or much older, because I am finding out, by people telling me over and over, that I don't act like an eleven year old. I don't know what I'm meant to act like, but supposedly not like this. It would make sense. I am finding out I've not had what most people would consider a "normal" life. I wish I lived in a tree. Don't laugh. Not _up_ in a tree, but among the hollow part of the trunk, with the roots holding in old earth like stairs. There was a tree like that near my house. And I wished I lived there. My father frightens me. And he never found me when I would go there, and he would never beat me for using magic, because he couldn't see.

In case anyone ever reads this and wonders what look like, my hair is black, my eyes are black, and my face is some color that faces oughtn't to be. That's what someone said, at least. Another person just came into the room and asked what I was writing. I'm not going to answer. I'd rather not. If people would just use their eyes, they wouldn't ask such stupid questions. I am liking school so far. I was sorted into Slytherin. I am good at potions. That's all I have to say. Goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

Alright, so that was not to be my final entry. I'm only writing because something has actually happened about which I can write. When I was coming here I boarded a train called the Hogwarts Express, which, obviously, goes to Hogwarts, which is a school. I'm going to stop explaining things now, because either you get it, or you don't, and I'll only be wasting ink. Anyhow, on the train, I was in the same carriage as a boy with long hair (longer than mine), a boy who was crying (I don't know why) and a girl who had hair the color of dragon fire. I know that dragons are real, and so I suppose I can tell you, whoever you are who may be reading this someday, even though you may be a muggle or someone orient-made. Dragons are real, and their fire is the color of this girl's hair. Or, more properly, her hair is the color of their fire. She was nice, her name is Lily. She talked to me and asked me my name, and I told her Severus Snape. I didn't tell her the Tobias part, because it wasn't important to the conversation, and because it's my father's name, and I only tell it to people who I know won't think I'm bad for being named for him, because he isn't nice at all.

So, the important thing that I am meant to be recording is that we talked again today. I saw her when she was being sorted, and she was sorted into Gryffindor. She seemed happy. That's where the long-haired boy went, and a few others from the train. Roughly a fourth of us. Actually, almost exactly a fourth, because there are only four houses. So since we are in different houses I supposed we would never see each other again, and it made me feel funny, almost sad I think. But in the library where I was trying to find a book on something that was interesting (that wasn't hard to do) I saw her. I saw her hair first, and then she turned and saw me.

"Severus!" she said. Some people turned to stare, but then they went back to their reading. The extraordinary thing is that when she came over to me, she put her book down and hugged me. I sort of stood there. It isn't like we know each other, and yes, one time we spent the day together after she found my tree by accident. But I had never been hugged by anyone before, aside from my mother, and that was a long time ago.

"I'm glad to see you - how do you like Slytherin?"

"I don't know," I told her, because I didn't. "Alright, I guess."

She asked me if I'd made any friends, and I told her that I knew some people's names.

"That's a start," she said. "Did you ask them?"

"No, I was listening when they were talking to each other." So I told her about a girl named Bellatrix who has black hair and who is strange, and who has a sister who is older, and a boy named Lucius who has white hair (well, almost white, it's hard to describe), and another boy whose name I forgot, but I told Lily, because I hadn't forgotten then.

"That's nice - you should make friends with them," she told me.

I told her they're not the sort of people who are easy to make friends with. But I actually think that I am one of those people. So I am happy that Lily wants to be my friend anyway. I wonder why. That's all, it's time to blow out my light. People are telling me it's keeping them awake.


	3. Chapter 3

Today we learned all about how to mix a potion that will keep someone awake for up to 4 hours. It wasn't hard, and seems like it would be useful, for instance, if you needed to stay awake for 4 hours when you're usually asleep. There was a boy in my class who wasn't paying attention at all. He was a Gryffindor, and shared a desk with the long-haired boy, whose name is Black, I found out, because he got in trouble. The other Gryffindor didn't. Bellatrix's last name is Black. I wonder if they are brother and sister, because they don't look that much alike. And if so, I wonder why he isn't in Slytherin. I wished I could have asked the sorting hat why I was put in Slytherin, but I didn't, and I don't have an owl, so it's not as if I could write and ask anyone else. And it's not as if there is anyone I would care to ask.

Lily was in my class, but she didn't talk to me, though she did smile. I wish we were in the same house. I am trying to come up with a plan where we could talk some more because she is so nice to me. The other people aren't really, but I just stay away from everyone in general and that seems to help. In the boy's bathroom everyone was asking when was the last time I washed my hair. I told them yesterday and they didn't believe me. They also didn't believe I was really eleven, but I think I've already written about that.

They also thought I cheated in potions, because mine was one of the best. Not the absolute best, because that was another person, but very nearly the best. I don't know why they think I have to cheat to be good. I'm not good at very much, but I am smart. Maybe one day I'll be famous as the smartest first year Hogwarts students. I am going to work on that one. Because apparently I'm not good at very much else.

There is a uniform we have to wear here. And I've got one, which is good, because I rather wondered where I was going to get the money, since it's not as if anyone was going to give it to me. I was wearing my usual clothes (I have three sets of non-school clothes, and one of school, so now I feel like I'm really climbing the ladder, as people say, because before I only had two sets of non-school clothes) when I heard about the uniform, and suddenly I wished that my clothes matched. I don't know why. I felt that way when I met Lily. Not in a bad way, not like the people who make fun of me, because then I get mad and I want to wear my normal clothes even more if only to prove to them that I don't care, but because she was so pretty and looked at me so funny I wished that for once I looked nice, and like other people. Anyhow, I was sent to a place for used wizarding materials, and that's where I got it, for not very much money at all. I have a wand too, a willow wand, and it's a little bit flexible. I don't know if that is good or not, but I wish it was black. Then it would match the rest of me.

There are some other things that I don't have and everyone thinks it's great fun to talk about. I let them, because that's a mark of the unintelligent, and they're just proving it when they make fun of other people.

Tonight I have a plan and I'm going to give a note to Lily the next time I see her. I don't know what class it will be, because I haven't quite gotten my timetable memorized, but I know which room it's in, and it's one of the dark ones, because the shutters are always kept closed. If I get the note to her and she agrees to come (we're going to meet in the library, in the restricted section, because it stands to reason no one will be in the library after hours, and even less of a chance that they'll be in the restricted section) I am going to bring some bread I saved from breakfast. I think that will be nice, and I always save food. It's a habit. So far no one else knows about it, and I hope it stays that way, because I think people would think that's strange. I only do it I suppose because at home I'm never sure when I'll get something to eat next, and it's wisest not to eat all your food at once. Also, I sometimes get hungry at times when there's not a meal with a name, like breakfast, lunch, or dinner, and then it's good to have something in your robe pocket. So I'm going to share with Lily, in case she's that way too. And I'm fairly sure she won't make fun of me. I will write more later, after our tryst in the library. I like the word tryst. I think it's grand that almost no one I know spells it right except for me.

* * *

Hello, again. It's late, but I was able to slip the note to Lily when we were in the corridor after class. She read it with it hardly opened in her palm, and she only slowed down walking a little, so I don't think anyone noticed. I was glad, because this means I can trust her to be discreet. And so she gave me a little smile and a nod after that and I knew that it was going to work.

I was very tired and thought about sitting in my bed to read until 10, which was when we had planned to go to the library and talk. But then I was almost sure that I would fall asleep, so I stayed in the common room and read a book about hexes and curses which is for third year students, actually. But I understood almost all of it, in theory, even if I may not be able to perform them yet. Then the clock struck, and I thought I miscounted because it only chimed nine times, and I was rather upset because that meant it really was only nine o'clock. So I got out the recipe for the wakefulness potion, but didn't have any of the materials, so I just waited and finally it was 10.

I never realized how lucky it is that not very many of the floorboards squeak in the Slytherin tower. I don't know how it is in the other houses, but our floor is very polite. I didn't want to risk getting caught with a light, so I covered my eyes for a long while so that when I opened them even the very little bit of light from the moon seemed bright. I went in my stockings down the stairs and through the corridors. There was no one at all about, which was good. I reached the library without incident, and called Lily's name once I was in the restricted section.

"Severus!" I heard her whisper. "Not so loud, we'll get caught!"

Then I saw her. She was on top of a shelf. I have no idea how she got up there, but it was a good idea, so asked her how she got up there.

"It's not very hard, it's not a spell or anything."

"It isn't?"

She smiled at me. "Push all the books in just a little and climb like a ladder."

It sounds easier than it looks, because in the restricted section, all the books are chained to the shelf. Fortunately for me, I could find most of the same places Lily had pushed the books in and so there was only a minimal amount of clanking. I am not fond of heights, but once I was up there, I had to admit it was a good spot. Unless we made too much noise or someone was looking on top of shelves for students, anyone who might be walking below would miss us.

"I wasn't sure you were coming," Lily whispered. "I was beginning to wonder."

"I left the common room as soon as the clock struck," I replied. From where we were sitting I could see all across the tops of all the shelves. The one we were sitting on was very dusty, and so I imagine the rest were the same. We would have to dust off our robes once we got down. Eventually, if we go back to the same place again and again (which I hope we do) the top of our shelf will be dust free.

I reached into the pocket of my robe and pulled out the bread. Lily looked surprised.

"Where did you get that?"

"Breakfast," I told her.

"Why didn't you eat it?"

"I had enough, and wanted to save some."

"Didn't you know there would be lunch later?"

I shrugged, because even though I supposed there would be, I didn't mind her questions because she did it in a nice way. "It's always good to plan ahead."

"You're a hoarder, Severus," she told me, and we started to laugh, but both shhhshed each other at the same time too, which made us laugh even more. Finally we calmed down, and we shared the bread. I tried to break it, but it was so stale that it hurt my hands, so we settled for passing it back and forth and taking bites. I felt like a dog must feel when he tears food off in his teeth. I never thought much of manners, but it was really irrelevant while sitting on top of a shelf in the restricted section.

"Have you met any friends?" I asked her once the bread was gone and we brushed the crumbs from our clothes. I could hear the crumbs fall down onto the study surfaces far below us and winced a little, because that would be hard to clean up in the dark. We actually just left it and hoped no one would notice.

"I have." She told me about a few girls that shared her room but I don't remember their names, and about sort of being friends with the Black boy, whose first name is Sirius.

"He was a mischief maker in potions class," I said. "Professor Slughorn got him in trouble."

"He got himself into trouble," Lily corrected. "But it was Potter who deserved it."

"Potter? Who is he?" I asked.

"He is the boy that was causing trouble with him. I don't know his first name, and I don't care. He's an arrogant toe-rag."

That's what she said. It must be a Muggle term. She kept talking and her voice got louder.

"I told Sirius that even though we'd only just met, he had better stop mucking about with Potter because he was a bad influence."

"Sh!" I told her. "Someone will hear us." I like Lily. She isn't afraid to say what she thinks. I'd just as soon be quiet about what I think.

She told me also that she'd written a letter home but wasn't sure if she wanted to send it yet or add to it, and I told her that if I were her I would not write home at all, because her sister Petunia is jealous. It sounded mean, and Lily said so, but I only meant it so that Petunia would not feel even worse.

It was getting near eleven o'clock and Lily was yawning, so we decided to go to bed so we wouldn't fall asleep during classes tomorrow. We are still trying to make good impressions, you see, only my impressions are never good, but I try. So we promised to do this again, and climbed down, carefully, and Lily stepped on her robe, but it was alright, because I helped her, and then she thanked me and hugged me again and this time I hugged back. It was nice.

I'm going to bed now. Maybe more some other time. If anything happens. I'm beginning to like writing a journal very much. It is rather nice since I haven't anyone actually to talk to, and I feel like paper is nicer to talk to anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

It's been a while since I've written, but I have been busy learning my routine here. I've fallen into new habits now, but I won't record them since that would be terribly boring for me, and a waste of time for whoever might be reading this. I haven't seen Lily in a while, but since we are about to go on holiday, I am going to try and meet with her again in the library. She told me she is going home to stay with her family. I am going back to Spinner's End, which is where I live, but it isn't going to be any great achievement. The only good thing about it is that it is a very short walk from where Lily lives. I will likely spend time in my tree. I want to have the inside fitted with shelves on which to keep things.

I've made a few friends whom I will say goodbye to later. One of them is a boy who shares a chamber with me, Rosier. His first name is Evan. He likes to laugh and make other people laugh, and so far, his tricks have all been good fun. Though he told me one night that he'd like the try hexing one of the girls who particularly annoys him, but I think she might be one of Lily's friends so I told him not to. At least not until I am sure, because I know she's a Gryffindor. I made up one of my own hexes, and it works, but it is a secret. And it's not very useful. The other person that shares a room with me (there are only three of us, though there are four beds, which I think is funny) is Rodolphus. His last name is Lestrange and he gets made fun of by Bellatrix, who says his name is very le-strange.

I will write more as soon as I get back home, if I can. I intend to keep this book in my tree, so no one will find it. I am looking forward to seeing my mother, if she comes home. She works all the time, and when she is not working she often stays with her own family, my grandfather Prince, who is rich, but hates my mother for marrying my father. I think my mother hates herself for marrying my father sometimes too. Grandfather Prince only lets her stay there because the roof at Spinner's End leaks and the plaster is coming from the walls and there is not much furniture. When my mother and father are home it is bad. He is not often home either, but when he is he is almost always drunk. And if I am alone I go and hide, and if Mum is there she makes me stay with her, to protect her, she says. Which means that we both get a beating.

I'll be back at school for my birthday, though. I've stopped saving food almost entirely. Sometimes I can't help it, though, for instance, I saved an apple from dinner the other night and I still have it. I think I will give it to Lily as a goodbye present. The food here is very good, I suppose I should mention.

* * *

Hello, again. Lily came in (she got my note) and then we went into the library to talk, but now I'm back and Evan and Rodolphus are asleep so can write more. Lily is so pretty. I would never tell anyone that I think that, and I'm not even sure that I can tell her yet, without her thinking me strange, but I have never met anyone prettier, or nicer. If I were allowed it, I would kiss her I think, just on the cheek, but I don't know that I should. It might not be right.

But that's not the point of this, the point of this is that we met in the library, and it was dark. We climbed up to our shelf in the restricted section and looked out over the whole of the library, and then she said:

"I'm going to miss you, Severus."

And I said, "I'm going to miss you too."

"But we can still see each other a little, right?"

I shrugged. "If my father doesn't catch us."

"What will he do?"

"What he always does."

"What's that?"

I shrugged again. "Shout. Hit things. And shout some more. I learned the worst words I know from him. Well, all but one. The other one I learned from Lucius."

"Malfoy?" She shuddered. "I don't like him."

And then we talked about hair, because mine was wet since I'd just had a bath, which was nice, because I don't always get a bath at home, and I don't always get a bath here either, because everyone else goes first and when it's my turn the water's cold and there's no shampoo. My shirt was all wet, and I was shivering a little, so Lily gave me her robe. I hadn't brought mine, I was just in my pyjamas, which (secretly) are my oldest set of non-school clothes. They looked like pyjamas people always said so I thought it was an alright idea now that the pants are too short to wear properly.

"Do you think I should cut my hair, Lily?" I asked. "I once heard that all great wizards have long hair."

"You can do whatever you want," she told me. "I like it as it is."

"Have you ever cut your hair in your entire life?" I asked her, but I asked it nicely, because her hair goes all the way down to her waist, almost, and I would not be surprised if she hasn't ever had her hair cut, not even when she was a baby. But I was wrong.

"No, I've had it cut a little quite often. But I never have Mum cut very much off, so it stays long." She pushed her hair behind her shoulders as if she remembered it while she was talking about it - rather like when you tell someone you like their shoes, or what's wrong with your shoes, and they always look down as if they have to remember what shoes it is they're wearing before they can reply.

I opened my mouth and almost told her that I thought it was pretty, but then I didn't, because I felt too strange. I gave her the apple instead.

"Where did you get this?" she asked.

"Supper," I told her. "A few days ago. But it's not gone soft or anything."

She polished it on the front of her jumper and held it up so that the moonlight would shine on it. It looked nice that way, but then she took it down again and said she'd likely eat it on the train tomorrow and would I ride in the same carriage as her?

"We can try," I told her. Then we got down, and I told her to make sure to come and see me at my tree once we got back home, and that way we would still have a good Christmas. She laughed and said she would come every time she was free. I'm going to go to sleep now. Maybe my father won't be at the house when I get home. That would be nice.


	5. Chapter 5

Today is the first day of the new year. I have been writing a lot, but it is rubbish and I have only been doing it while I'm crying, which is mortifying, so I have been tearing it out and am beginning again now. My father came a few days ago, and my mother was here before that. She was happy to see me, and gave me a hug and said, "I hope you're learning a lot in school."

"I am," I told her. "And there aren't very many nice students, but one of the professors told me I was doing well." He only said it once, but I have been reminding myself that ever since. It was Professor Slughorn, head of Slytherin house, and potions master. I think he is my favorite.

Then she told me that she was working hard at the factory so that we might have enough money for something special for Christmas. She didn't tell me what it was, but I think this is going to be like every year where she says that and nothing happens. She said she's hid the money somewhere my father won't find it, and then she had to go, so I set to looking, just so I'd know. But I'm going to go back to before she left, and talk about that more, and then say what happened next. She was here for several weeks, and I had a nice time seeing someone else though we don't talk much. People say I take after her, but I hope not, because even though not very many people would think she is pretty, even more people think I'm ugly, so that would be offensive. Her hair is black like mine, and her face pale, and her eyes black, and her eyebrows dark. Her mouth is always down but I think that's because she is brooding. When she smiles though she looks very nice and she let me plait her hair the night before she left.

"That's silliness," she said, but I twisted it up and let it fall down a few times before taking it into three parts and crossing them over each other. Her hair is long, but not as long as Lily's. She left it in the plait all evening, even when she went to buy some food for us for dinner (she brought back bread and cheese and some parsnips, which are alright when cooked) and after dinner when we went to sleep too. There is one bed in the bedroom. Our house is two rooms, the bedroom and the other room, and when Mum or my father is here, they have the bed, and when they're not, I have it. So I slept on the floor next to her with two blankets because she said she is always hot and didn't want hers, which is probably because we had quite an enormous fire going in the other room, and she left the plait in even then. I suppose I should mention that if my father is here in the bed, I sleep in the other room, or in the tree if he is very bad.

"Don't let your father trouble you, Severus," she told me just before going to sleep.

Anyhow, as soon as she left in the morning, to work, and stay with Grandfather Prince for the rest of the holiday I started looking around the house for where she might have hid the money, so I could know where it is, and hide it better if it's someplace my father might find it. There are a lot of crumbling bricks in the masonry of our hearth and chimney, so I started looking in there and got all sooty, and then I felt around in all the holes in the wall and behind the stuff we have sitting on the shelf that's built into the other wall, the better wall. And then I still wasn't finding it so I started pulling on the loose floorboards and at last ended up rather under the house when I heard footsteps and knew it was my father. I am glad that Mum got away before he came, or it would not have been good. Apparently they write, or at least she does, but it's never about me. It's about finances and other things, but not about magic, though Mum is a witch, and not about me, since I'm pretty well left to myself. He sounded like he was a little sober, because he was walking steady.

I stayed down below because I didn't want to draw attention to a place which might be hiding money, but then he must have seen me because he reached down and grabbed me by my collar and pulled me up, which hurt, because my trousers tore on a loose nail and I could feel my leg bleeding.

"What are you doing here, boy?" he demanded, and then I smelled him, and he smelled drunk, but it was probably just old smell.

"I'm on holiday," I told him. "No school until the first of the year."

"Holiday," he grumbled, dropping me and beginning to hunt around the house. "Any food?" I shook my head. "Mum?"

"Gone," I told him. "This morning."

"Where to?"

"To work, of course."

"Don't _of course_ me, you sniveling little brat," he said, and I made the mistake of sitting down too close to examine my leg because he hit me with something, I don't know what, I just saw stars.

Anyhow, I couldn't please him, and when I told him I was going to go for a walk (which meant Lily) he got into a rage and started shouting about how I wasn't going anywhere, and when I tried to run, he grabbed me and threw me into the wall, and then I started crying and that made him even more mad, and basically I just got away at last. I didn't run straight to my tree because he'd follow me, I went down to the river, where I'd spent a day with Lily once, and then I went to the tree and have been staying there for the past few days. There's not much food, since I've broken my hoarding habit, but I have my journal, so I think that's enough writing for now. Maybe Lily will come tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

Lily did come tomorrow. I was so glad to see her that I had a strange aching feeling in my chest. I could see her from far off, because I wasn't inside the tree, I was standing down among the roots and looking out over the area, but not over the river, because that's down the other side of the hill. And because no one ever thinks to look among the roots of a giant elm tree for a face looking out, I am almost always undetectable. She was wearing a dress that wasn't her school uniform, and a coat that wasn't quite as long as the dress, and a scarf that was brightly colored. I came up out of the roots to watch her arrive.

"Severus!" she called, and I stood there to wait for her to come up. "I'm sorry I haven't come sooner, I have been terribly busy." She was out of breath from coming up the hill so fast, and her breath made cold puffs in the air.

"It's warmer inside," I told her, and I beckoned her within. She followed me, because though she's come to see me before at the tree, she has never been inside. She seemed to like it, and I showed her my shelves, on which I keep my cauldron, my books and this journal - basically the stuff I don't want my father to find. The backs of them are curved to match the inside of the bark, and each one is different. They took me a long time to make, but I am rather proud of how they turned out.

"This is grand," Lily said, gathering her coat around her ankles as she sat down on the dirt floor. "I could be very happy here, I think."

"So am I. No one ever bothers me here. And no one knows about it except you, and Petunia."

Lily grimaced at her sister's name. She had been there the day that Lily and I met and so that's how she knew.

"That's why I've been so busy. Mum and Dad and Petunia have had quite a schedule for us since I've gotten back, with holidaying and such."

"Is Petunia still mean?"

Lily scratched her cheek. "Petunia was never mean. Not hateful, that is. Just jealous."

"She seemed pretty awful to me," I remarked, because she did. I'm one to talk, but she's not nice to look at either. Not like Lily, who is so pretty that if she was in a picture I would carry it around with me to look at, either that or hang it in an important place and never leave.

She was looking at me funny.

"What?" I asked her. "Is my hair wrong?" It's almost always wrong, just so you know.

"No, what happened to your face?" she asked, her brow furrowed. I must have looked bad again, so I shrugged.

"It's nothing."

"I could heal it."

"_I_ could heal it."

"Why don't you?"

"Because then my father would know I've been up to magic again and beat me even more."

Lily shook her head. "That is horrible, Severus."

We sat in happy silence for a long time, and I say happy silence because there are some silences that are worse than others. Finally I asked her something, because I feel like I can ask her things and nothing bad will happen.

"Why is the world so unjust? What makes people so cruel? Why does it seem like when you are with someone particular everything is alright, but when you're not it seems like the world isn't even worth being in anymore?"

She sat quietly for a long time, because we're only eleven and have to think about things before talking. Then she said:

"The world is unjust sometimes. People don't understand other people because they don't try. If they were willing to try I think things would be better."

"Are some people just meant to be cruel? And other people just meant to take it all?"

"I think all people have some niceness inside them, it's just that not everyone listens to it."

"I disagree. Some people are all bad."

Lily cocked her head. "Like who?"

It didn't take me very much thinking to answer that one. "Potter. Malfoy. Sirius Black. My father. Everyone, basically. Everyone except you."

She shook her head, her hair clinging to the wool of her coat. "A lot of people are awful to you especially it seems."

"It does seem that way, doesn't it."

"I wonder why?"

"So do I. I think some people are meant to be picked on."

"I don't." But she didn't elaborate. I wished I had some food to offer her, and I wished that I had a coat, because even though inside the elm was warmer than outside, it was still cold, and I'd been there for a long time. Lily had to go pretty soon, and I know that because she stood up and looked regretful.

"I have to go, Mum will be looking for me. Are you going to go back home?"

I hesitated. "I had better. Maybe my father will be gone."

Lily nodded, a line between her brows. I didn't like that, so I reached out and touched her forehead where it was, hoping to make it go away. It wasn't that the line was so bad, it was just that I didn't want it there on account of me. She jumped, because apparently my hands were cold.

"Sorry," I said, and she just said, "You should go and warm up. You look dreadful, your lips are blue."

So Lily left and I watched her until I couldn't see her anymore and then I went home. My father wasn't there, but I didn't sleep in the bed because it smelled of beer and worse things. There were some parsnips in the cupboard so I ate those and started a fire with a pyramo charm, and wrote this. Now I'm going to read, probably potions. We are to take a test to measure our achievements when I get back at school, and I want to do well. I don't know when exactly it is, but I want to be prepared.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm back at school now, and unpacked. My room mates are still Rodolphus and Evan, but I am starting to call him Rosier, even though we're on a first-name basis, just because Evan is too close to Evans and that's Lily's surname, which people who are not on a first-name basis call her, and I don't want those two things to be related in my head.

There were quidditch tryouts today, for second years, which I am now, though there are only a few positions that second years usually make, since it's mostly third years on the team. Quidditch is a game, and I don't care for it much, it seems pointless to me. Though it is amusing to watch on occasion, and we are rather all required to support our houses in the matches. I just don't understand why a lot of otherwise intelligent witches and wizards would want to spend their time and mental effort flying around trying to bash a ball through a ring. It all seems very childish, when they could be learning charms.

Anyhow, I did not try out because I did not want to, but I got asked about it a lot. No one seemed to expect me to, but it was a little irritating because that means they don't think I have it in me. Well, I don't - meaning I don't have a capacity in my mind for pointless sports, but to them this makes me a coward. Oh well. Potter and his friends all tried out, and Potter made seeker, which is a position for showoffs who have nothing better to do, and don't even help their team, preferring instead to fly around trying to find a little thing called a snitch all on their own. He and his group of friends have started calling themselves the Marauders, and I don't know why, though it is fitting. I would not be surprised if their main tenet is to make life miserable for me.

For example, yesterday I was reading, minding my own business, on a bench in the middle courtyard when I saw a group of Gryffindors, Lily among them, crossing the corridor. She came over to me and asked how I was, and that's when I saw that her friend Mary and a few other girls were mixed with Lupin, Sirius Black, and another boy with pale eyes and a boring aspect about him. Potter was next to rear his gorgeous head.

"Lily! Fraternizing with the enemy?" he called.

My blood felt like it was on fire to hear him call her by her given name.

"He's not the enemy, Potter," she said, adding extra emphasis to his surname. "He's my friend."

"He's a Slytherin," Black said, as if that explained everything, while Potter's eyes got wide, so wide that it looked fake, which it, in fact, was. He wears glasses too, which made it look even more ridiculous. I don't know why everyone says he is handsome. Maybe it's because his hair is thick and sandy and his eyes are large and his teeth are white and his skin a proper color. I think he looks like and owl with his round glasses, but I never say anything, partly because I'm afraid to, because know where I stand, and I am thin as a pole and my hair is stringy and my teeth are yellow, and partly because I just would rather not give more fuel to the fire. I still persist in thinking that if remain quiet they will someday leave me alone.

"He's your _friend_?" Potter said, his eyes still open as wide as a snake's, and that's saying a lot, because snakes don't even have eyelids.

"Yes," Lily said firmly. "And I wish you'd stop tormenting him."

Lily is brave. I stood up and gathered my books, and Lily helped me, handing me the last few which I stacked. Potter snickered and Black spoke up.

"When's the wedding?"

I glared at them, and so did Lily.

"We're just friends, Sirius." She calls him by his first name to avoid confusion with the other Blacks here at school, like Bellatrix and the others.

"How many baby Snapes are you planning to make?"

"Shut up," I said, and that was as brave as I got, because then the quiet boy gave a sort of giggle that sounded like an animal sound and said, "He speaks!" It was kind of ironic, actually, because I'd never heard him talk at all before either.

"I said leave him alone," Lily told them, but not in a mean way. She can threaten and still be nice. They moved off laughing. Lily gave me a look that said not to mind them, and I said:

"I hate Gryffindor."

And she laughed, even though she's in Gryffindor, and then she had to go because the next period was starting.

**Author's Note: Thank you much if you're still with me! It has been fascinating to get into young Severus' head and see what he thinks about things. Events are about to pick up, there will be a bit of a time jump, and consequently his writing will be getting more mature and easier to follow. Review, if you please? I'd appreciate hearing from you! This chapter is dedicated to The Magnificent Kiwi. If you get a chance, check out her story "Fidelius", which is absolutely splendid. **

**-Viola**


	8. Chapter 8

Today we took our tests, which are called O.W.L's, and I don't recall what it stands for, but it is not occulumency, wizengamot, and levicorpus, which were the first three words that came into my head. But it couldn't be levicorpus, because (a great secret) I have made that one up and no one else knows it yet. It's a spell that will dangle your opponent upside down in the air by the ankles. I have yet to test it on a human specimen, but it works on owls and toads. I know that owls and toads don't really have ankles, but that is the best human equivalent I can work out, because it basically levitates, inverts, and hovers. The counterspell is liberacorpus, which I have yet to test. But it should work.

I was only about half way done with my test when the Headmaster came over along with two other professors, Slughorn, and a lady whose name I don't know but she is Scottish, and said to me:

"Snape, a moment please?" Well, only the headmaster said that, though, not them all, the other two just stood there.

I looked around, because everyone else had stopped their quills scratching and were staring at us, since it was in the middle of a test after all, and I said, "Oughtn't I to finish?"

"No need, you can finish later, come with me," the headmaster said, and with everyone staring at me, I followed the professors from the room. The other two left as soon as we were out in the corridor, talking together and watching us, but the headmaster beckoned me to follow him and we walked across the castle and to his office, which is up in one of the turrets. I had never been in there before this.

"Mr. Snape, you are currently taking second year studies, am I correct?" he asked me.

I nodded. "I'm twelve, almost thirteen."

"Records show that you are more advanced than any of the other students in your year, especially in potions and defense against the dark arts. Are you aware of this?"

I swallowed and shook my head. I wasn't, though I am aware that I am rather intelligent, simply because I don't waste time with frivolous pursuits, read with all my spare time because there's no one I would want to pursue frivolous things with anyway, and use words that make people stare (though I don't know why, as they are real words and I read them all the time) like propensity, indefatigable, and acquiescence.

"You are not even finished with your O.W.L. and you are testing at a genius level, Severus," the headmaster said, using my first name for the first time. His tone of voice made it sound as if it were a bad thing.

"Is that alright?" I said at last. He nodded, and rummaged in his desk while saying, "I will talk to some of the other professors about how we can challenge you."

"I will take all the extra work you can give me," I said, and that was bold of me. But what I was privately thinking was that if I had extra homework I would have a viable excuse to refuse to go to things like balls and quidditch matches and trips to the Forbidden Forest. I just don't like being around people at all.

So Lily and I had planned to meet that night (last night) in the library, and we climbed on top of our shelf, which was all dusty again after our absence, and I told her not to tell anyone, but that I had to finish my O.W.L tomorrow because the headmaster had taken me out in the middle of it. She asked why, and I told her that it was a secret, and I didn't know what to think, but that I was testing at genius level.

Lily just stared at me, but then blinked and said, "Somehow I'm not surprised."

"You're not?"

"I've always told you that you were smart. Why don't you want anyone to know?"

"I'll get teased even more."

"But _genius_, Severus. Don't you know what that means? That means that most of us can't even fathom your brain because of how... _good_ it is."

I laughed at her definition, but had to cover it with my sleeve, because just then someone was coming. It was Filch, a stooped-looking man in his thirties with shoddy shoes that make a particular sound when he walks. He was carrying a lantern and looking all about, so we just lay as low as we could on top of the shelf and tried to breathe very quietly. Lily was very close to me as we waited, and at last he went away and we let out a breath of relief as if we shared a pair of lungs.

"Never mind it all, then," I told her. "I just wanted someone to know."

And she just nodded, and then very quietly leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I don't remember saying goodbye properly, or climbing down, but eventually I was back in Slytherin and when I fell asleep I dreamed that I had the word genius branded onto my cheek where she had kissed me and everyone was staring.


	9. Chapter 9

Goodness me. I know that is a very profound way to begin a journal entry, but this book has been out of my possession for longer than I care to ponder and I was remarking on the immaturity of all the thoughts written here. This book was stolen from me shortly after the last entry in my second year and I have just now recovered it. I am still Severus Snape. I have dropped the Tobias, as a final parting gesture to signify the hatred I feel for my father, but I am now 16 years old, in my fifth year at Hogwarts. Mercifully, I had placed a cloaking charm upon this book so that no one could read what was written here, and I am grateful for my foresight. The hated Marauders that I have mentioned, Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew, are all very much alive and together, and though I have no proof, I suspect them greatly in the matter. It disappeared from my side table one day and and I came across it sheathed in another tome's cover in the library just today. If you are wondering how on earth it came to be there, I am wondering the same thing. But it really can be expected in a school of underage wizards. Mischief, that is, though I flatter myself I am above such pranks.

Anyhow, I am still sharing a room with Rosier and Rodolphus, and a boy named Mulciber. We are none of us very close, but we are Slytherin together, and that is about as good as it gets. Gryffindor continues to lead in the quidditch pitch, not that I care, but I thought it worth mentioning in the light of history. Ravenclaw continues to be renowned for their brains and Hufflepuff for whatever Hufflepuff is meant for. And me? I am unchanged, unless it be that I am taller, my hair is greasier, my nose is larger, and my voice in a disgustingly undecided state.

I spent the most recent holiday at Spinner's End, and saw neither Mum nor Father. I could not be happier. I had the house to myself, except for the day that Lily came over. She was stunned into silence at the place, and I suppose not having grown up there, it must be a little shocking. There are floorboards out and holes in the roof and almost no furniture to speak of. We sat in the corner of the other room and talked for a long while, and it made me quite happy to see her. It had been lonely.

It is my birthday, the day that we were to resume school, January 9, and she brought me a present and said I could have it early. I have never been given anything before by anyone aside from Mum, and that is only food, and once a gift on my birthday, which was a gold galleon, and later she was required to ask for back as we had no money for firewood and she did not want to burn the last of the chairs.

But I digress. That all is is to say, Lily brought forth from her coat a long narrow package wrapped in a piece of dark cloth. The cloth was fine and thick and I felt bad for touching it because my hands were rather on the dirtier side. So I told her to wait, and hurriedly splashed my hands at the tap, which mercifully was not frozen, and when I came back she had the biggest smile I think I have ever seen on her face.

"Open it, open it," she urged me, and I protested:

"I am, Miss Impatience!"

So I removed the wrapping, and saw it was a long wooden box.

"Do you like it?" she said, her voice pinched with excitement. "It will be so much nicer than the one you've got."

I had no idea what it was she was talking about, so I said, "I don't understand. What is it?"

"A wand box," she said, her eyes fixed on mine. "You mean to say you don't recognize a wand box when you see it?"

I felt imbecilic, but shook my head, explaining that my mum had given me her own beginning wand from when she started at Hogwarts, and had never said anything of it since.

"Your abilities will increase even more now that you can have a proper wand at last," Lily told me, her face shining. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

I assumed she meant I was to open the box, so I did, and was even more befuddled to discover the box contained nothing but a piece of thick velvet with an indentation as if something was meant to be there.

"What..." I began, and she was staring at me, holding out a small pouch. It was floo powder, and then it all made sense. The wand is to choose the wizard. She was taking me to Diagon Alley to have a new wand choose me and that would be my birthday present. I wanted to hug her, but I didn't, because I still feel that I cannot do that sort of thing without it being strange.

We traveled through the floo network to the Alley, and when we arrived, Lily was laughing.

"Your face!" she said, and I scowled.

"What's happened to it?"

"When you opened your present..." She doubled over in laughter and I prodded her back from the roadway because we were blocking the foot traffic, and waited for her to settle.

Then we went into Ollivander's, whose name was on the empty box I had been given - apparently everyone gets their wands from him, but I am rather the exception to everyone, and though I had been to Diagon Alley before, I had never been with the intent of buying my supplies, as most other people were. I only came along with Mulciber and Avery once, and I had no money. My supplies were all second-hand, and this year I was in sore need of a new uniform and robe. My books could be borrowed, Slughorn told me this, and my cauldron was still good, but I needed clothing, ink - quills are at school - and apparently a wand.

I pulled my wand, the willow one, from my pocket and put it upon the counter once we entered the dark place, and a man who must have been Mr. Ollivander (for Lily greeted him and he seemed to know her) came over and examined it. He looked up at me at last with a curious expression on his face.

"This wand is completely done in, young sir. What on earth do you want me to do with it?"

I suppressed a smile. "It belonged to my mother until she got a proper wand and has been mine for the past five years."

"It has seen a lot of service in those five years alone," Lily smirked. I gave her a look, but she continued, "We are wanting to turn this one in for reconditioning, and Mr. Snape would like to have a new wand choose him - a proper wand for a proper wizard."

I couldn't help but be slightly mortified at so much information being given about me to a complete stranger, but Lily seemed to know what she was doing, and I trust her implicitly, and so Mr. Ollivander beckoned for me to follow him over to where hundreds of thousands of long wooden boxes were stacked upon shelves. I could now see why Lily thought it humorous that I did not recognize a wand box.

Mr. Ollivander climbed upon a ladder, and then halfway down, or halfway up, whichever you choose to consider it, he turned and looked at me for a long moment.

"Black," I heard him mutter, and I was about to protest that I had nothing to do with that disgusting inbred family, when he pulled down a box, blew the dust from it and handed it to me, pronouncing, "Ebony wood, dark and strong. Try it."

I carefully opened the box and looked at the wand. True to his description, it was dark wood, nearly coal black in the shadows of the shop, and etched with a minute pattern all over the handle. The tip was more blunt than some wands I've seen, but it was perfectly straight, and strong looking. Powerful, subtle, and to the point. Like me.

Mr. Ollivander told me to levitate anything I chose, so I chose him, which seemed to shock him. It also seemed to shock the two young witches that came in the door while I was in the act. I put him down quite decently, and he adjusted his clothing and hurried up to me.

"Never has a wand chosen a wizard so strongly, or on the first attempt, as yours has."

Lily just looked on, and so I cleared my throat awkwardly, and she purchased it for me, handing it to me once we were out of the shop.

"Happy birthday, Severus. May it serve you well."

It is the best gift I have ever received. I must stop now, it is late, and I am growing drowsy. I am grateful to have my journal back at last. I did not realize how much I had missed it.


	10. Chapter 10

Today is Lily's birthday, which is exactly 21 days after mine. I found it out by accident, and I am angry at myself for not thinking to ask, especially because she has been so kind to me, and remembered my birthday after all. Her gift to me was really extraordinary. It has drawn one of the only compliments I've ever received in my life (the other being from Professor Slughorn, who said I was "doing well" and the third being a comment from a complete stranger who said to her companion, "that boy, for instance, he could be something if he tried, and if he would just change his outlook..." - I've pondered that a lot. It is not really a compliment I suppose, but I am very interested in what changing my outlook could possibly do for me. Anyhow - I digress). My wand has also has elicited some teasing, the nature of which I will not record, as it is rather vulgar I suspect - similar to the way that I would suspect a word when father used it and it could not be traced by it's Latin origins or when it was it did not make sense - and though the Marauders seem to think it hilarious (imbeciles) for they can't stop talking about it, one person, a younger fellow by the name of Crouch, told me:

"That's a right elegant wand." And as a result I wasn't at all gloomy for the rest of the day, but I tried not to show it overly much.

But I was speaking of Lily's birthday. I very much wanted to get her a proper present, a wonderful present like she had gotten me, and not only to reciprocate her kindness, but because she means more to me than I can likely ever say, and she deserves something wonderful. The things troubling my good intentions were initially, that I had no money, subsequently, that I had no ideas, and finally, that I had no time. I only found out that her birthday was today, yesterday (if that makes sense).

It was like this. She was standing just on the other side of the doors to the Great Hall after the noon meal, waiting for me to come out with the other Slytherins, so that she could say hello, I suppose. I saw her, and altered my course so that I would be heading in her direction.

"Afternoon, Lily," I told her, hoping that no one was watching us.

"Hello, Severus," she told me. "I just wanted to say hello."

"Hello," I replied. I am so stupid when it comes to conversation sometimes. I could lecture, I am fairly sure of it, but I cannot master the back and forth that makes up social interactions. It is tedious, and I would rather do all the talking, about something which interests me, or listen, merely pretending to hear of things that interest another. It is the in-between that is awful. I am alright with Lily, but she is exceedingly patient. I would not have anyone know the things I write in this journal for all the world.

"I was half expecting my owl today," she said, tossing her head in the way that she has a habit of doing. "I've told Mum and Dad that if there's ever anything anyone means to say to you to send it by my owl - I hope you don't mind."  
"Not at all," I said, rather touched, actually, that she would think of me in such a way. Not that there is anyone I'd care to communicate with, or who would care to communicate with me, but still. She continued, but I don't think it was meant to be of great import:

"Mum almost always sends me a letter for my birthday, but I suppose there's still tomorrow."

"Your birthday's tomorrow?"

She nodded. "Sixteen, like you. How is it?" She seemed very interested in pondering the changes that come with another year of life, but I was preoccupied with the fact that her birthday had come to my attention. But I told her, "It's not so very different from fifteen. Life changes so gradually that I think we will only be able to detect the stratification of our years in retrospect."

She laughed, and said, "You have such a fascinating view of life, Severus. Or at least a very fascinating way of expressing it."

And then the professors were ushering us onward to our next period, and so we gave each other a farewell look rather than a verbal goodbye and I proceeded to completely tune out the next few courses, pondering what on earth I could give to Lily for her birthday.

I thought of everything that money can buy, of things a girl might like, and finally, more realistically, something that I owned, because that was the only possibility at such short notice. A strange idea came into my mind, and though part of me thought it rather insufficient, I had no better idea present itself, and so I was resolved.

I have been practicing apparating, and it is dangerous, because an amateur can end up at any unfortunate place or be splinched in the act, but I have managed to detect the extent of the protective spells around the school, and after a nice long walk, can be beyond their reaches. I have apparated a few times successfully to Spinner's End, and back. I am not licensed to travel in such a way, and as I have not even applied for the test (I believe you must be over 17) this is a great secret. Reasonable restrictions have been explained, but I feel I have sufficient mental power to avoid injury or mishap.

The moment that my courses were finished for the day, I took off walking toward the Forbidden Forest. It was just my luck that Potter and Sirius Black, accompanied by Pettigrew (Lupin was nowhere to be seen, he disappears for unexplained illnesses) should see me.

"Snape!" Potter called. "What's your hurry?"

"It's none of your business," I replied, but no matter how quickly I walked, they seemed right in stride with me.

"It wouldn't happen to be against the rules, would it? Wherever you're going?" Pettigrew asked.

"I said it's not your business," I repeated with as much venom as I could muster.

"'It's not our business,' Greasy says," Potter sneered. "Have you combed your hair today?"

"I'll never understand why you're so determined to undermine my character by pointing out my physical appearance," I snapped. "Looks aren't everything."

"He means that his brains are where his stock lies. Let's have a look," Black said, aiming a book at my head. He grimaced when I ducked. "We were going to crack it open and have a look! Just a peek!" he complained.

I stopped walking, and pointed back along the path whence we came. "Go," I said.

Potter crossed his arms. "Why?"

"You're not wanted here."

"He's got a secret admirer he's going to see in the woods," Black explained to the others. "It's a female troll, no one else would have him with a face like that!"

"Love at last, eh, Snape?" Pettigrew chimed in. "And we all thought it was going to be Evans."

"Shut up," Potter snapped. "Don't bring her into this."

"It's none of her business," Black said in a sugary voice.

I was beginning to feel a bit faint, and the flickering lights around the periphery of my vision that always accompany an oncoming rage were beginning to flash like warning beacons.

"Just let me be," I found myself growling. "Because if you don't you'll be sorry. I've got an errand. That's all."

"An errand!" Potter clapped his hands childishly. "Can we come?"

Pettigrew and Black seemed to find this enormously funny.

"No, you can't," I replied, my face feeling stiff and frozen from masking the anger I felt. "Leave, or you'll regret it."

"Listen to the professor," Black said, his eyes wide. "Trying to frighten us, isn't he, James?"

"Let Snivellus alone," Potter said at last, turning away, growing tired of baiting a boar that won't fight. "We've got better things to do with our time."

The moment they turned their backs I apparated, beyond caring if they knew my ability. I was a little breathless when my eyes focused at Spinner's End and I ran up the banks of the river toward my tree. Luckily no one was about - I would have had a sporting time of it explaining my appearance to either of my parents, or anyone else for that matter - and I found what I was looking for in short order. It was a box, which I used to keep hidden beneath the rotting floor of one of the cupboards, but which I relocated to my tree the day that my father started smashing floorboards looking for the money my mother had hidden. It contained no great treasures, but a few things which as a child I had prized.

One of them was a book, the autobiography of Nicolas Flamel, that used to belong to my mother. She had given it to me as a child and it had intrigued me, and I had not brought it with me to school. Another was the pewter handle to a dagger. It had been caught in a tangle of debris by the riverbed one dry summer, and I had salvaged it and polished it as best I might. Lily might fancy that, but I had another idea. The last thing in my box was wrapped in a pillowcase, a shabby piece of cotton wovens that was all that was left of the sheet set that had been converted into curtains which no longer hung in our windows. This sounds ridiculous, but it was something that I had as a very young child and which I had put away as soon as I was old enough to fear my father. It was a toy, a stuffed piglet, sitting upright, and with a crooked snout. It was worn and greying, but it was a prized possession of mine. I never slept with it nor lavished attention on it like some children, but talked to it, looked at it, and occasionally touched it, when I could bring myself to get it out of the box. This was my present to Lily, its value being mainly nostalgic, rather than monetary.

I reappeared behind the gamekeeper's house and quickly made my way up the hill toward school, intending on getting back to my dormitory and seeing if anyone had anything decent lying about or in the bin that I could wrap it in. I located an old front page of the Daily Prophet and wrapped the piglet in that, folding the edges as crisply as I could, and wishing most powerfully that I had some string. I charmed it at last to make it stay closed.

First thing this morning I went to find Lily, before breakfast. There are no rules that say how early students can be about the halls, only how late, so I was not in danger. I arrived at the entrance to Gryffindor without incident, and told the portrait that I did not have the password, but that I wished to see Lily Evans. I was told to wait a moment, and soon the frame opened to reveal Lily, clad in her pyjamas and robe. Her feet were bare, and clean.

"Severus!" she exclaimed, pulling her hair all to one side, as if to disguise its unbrushed state. "What in Merlin's name is going on?"

"Happy birthday," I told her, simply holding out the gift. Her eyes widened, and she stepped out onto the stairs, closing the painting behind her.

"Why... thank you," she stammered. "Should I open it now?"

I nodded, and whispered the counter-charm which made the paper easy for her to remove. She studied the piglet lying upon the page of the Daily Prophet with a quizzical look on her face.

"I...what is it?" she said quietly, looking at me with a suppressed smile.

"It was mine when I was younger. One of my favorite things, and I'm sorry it is not what you deserve, but it meant a great deal to me, as do you, and so I thought it was... fitting." That sounds so dreadful, doesn't it, but that's what I said.

And so then she hugged me, and said. "It's perfect," and gave the grubby thing a kiss on the nose.

"Hide it so no one will tease you," I advised, but she scowled at me.

"Never! I will put it in a place of honor on my side table."

And so that is that. Lily is sixteen now, like I am. I hope that she had a good birthday, for I did not see her all the rest of the day. But she flew me a note in Muggle Studies (in which class she never pays much attention, and rightly so) that said _Does he get lonely at nights?_

And I sent her one back that said _Very_, so she might sleep with it after all, though I won't ask her because it would sound silly for a sixteen-year-old to admit such a thing.


	11. Chapter 11

Nothing much is happening today, nothing out of the ordinary that is. I had classes, of course, which I enjoy, I suppose. Not that I am experiencing a particular thrill of joy during while listening to lectures, writing papers or demonstrating incantations, but it gives food to my mind and occupation to my hand, and keeps my head down and busy so that people cannot bother me.

Reading back over my previous entries was extremely embarrassing. I sound as if Lily is my sole defense against the hostile world, which is not true. Or if it is, I do not wish it to be. I do not need to be defended by her, I do not need to be defended by anybody, including myself. I am not under attack, that I am aware. This is just my life, my existence, and everyone hates me in it, and I hate everyone in return. I cannot think of a single person whose company I enjoy except Lily. I cannot think of a single person who does not feel the strongest revulsion toward me except Lily. So I suppose it is always Lily. It was then, and it still is now, and I suspect it will be for long after this.

Incidentally, I have made a discovery. I have suspected this for a long time, but it was not confirmed until recently, in a conversation with Lily. Lupin, one of the disgusting Marauders, even from the time when I first came into a position where I was aware of his existence, has been quiet and secretive. He disappears regularly each month ("he is ill", everyone says) and when he returns, usually from the hospital wing, he is in terrible shape. At first I suppose I attributed it to someone like my father, where being in his presence for three minutes meant injuries that would last for three weeks. I did not realize than that this was not normative. Or perhaps I did, but that is no matter.

At last it dawned upon me, because Lupin's disappearances were always corresponding to the moon's cycle. The creature is a werewolf, and he has been quarantined, as I suspect it, in the structure called the Shrieking Shack. I intended to investigate personally, but I spoke to Lily about it, since he is in Gryffindor, and now I am not so keen. The Shrieking Shack has earned it's name, no doubt, from his own screams, for there are rumors of the horrendous sounds issuing from it. The Headmaster tells us, when pressed, that it is haunted, but I, for one, was willing to stake a great deal on the fact that it is haunted by the Gryffindor concealing his lycanthropy. It is a pleasing discovery for me, as I have read that the soul of a werewolf cannot pass beyond the human plane, and thus, when dead, his spirit will perish as well. This is a fortunate discovery, as I have determined to try and get the Marauders expelled from Hogwarts this year. I have had enough of their pranking.

* * *

It is later in the same day, and spurred by my own record of resolve, I set out at once to try and catch Potter or any of his friends in the act of mischief making. It is not a difficult task. First of all I came across Lily, and told her what I was about.

Her face was serious. "I am surprised we haven't thought of this before," she said.

"In truth, I'm surprised the professors haven't caught them. There are more than enough of their collective pranks to have gotten them worse than detention long before this," I told her.

"You see, the professors are set on them being brilliant."

I snorted.

"Potter and Black especially. Therefore, they go a little soft on them."

"It's not a favor we can all enjoy," I grumbled. "I am certain if we can assure that a professor will witness a particularly vicious act of theirs, they can be expelled for it."

Lily looked grave. "You really think so?"

"Of course." I pushed some hair from my eyes. "That's what this is all about, isn't it."

"I mean, I think I know what you're thinking."

I nodded. "They can't keep from pointing their wands at me, so I have merely to present myself in their presence and be unobtrusive as possible; it is your part to assure that a professor is nearby."

Lily's eyes were sad. "I can't just let you be their bait, Severus. Who know what they'll do to you."

"I don't need you to concern yourself with me," I snapped. "Are you intending to help or not?"

She sighed. "Of course."

"Good." And then I took her hand, because I felt bad for speaking so harshly. She looked surprised, so I dropped it.

"What was that?" she asked quietly, not looking at me.

"Nothing," I said. "I just meant I am sorry."

"Are my hands cold?"

I shrugged.

"I just meant why did you drop it as if I had the plague?"

I fought back a smile. "I wasn't sure that it was alright, I'm not much for touching, but I thought –"

I broke off as she deliberately took my hand again and gave it a squeeze.

"It's alright."

I tried to pull away, even through my heart was beating fast at the fact that we were, in our wakeful consciousness, holding hands.

"Seriously, relax," she muttered, and we began to walk. My errand was forgotten for a mere moment, but unfortunately, I saw the werewolf come out of a nearby classroom, and catch sight of us. He nodded at Lily and pulled his forelock.

"Hello, Lily," he said and she nodded back.

"Remus."

"Why are you talking to him?" I hissed. "Don't you realize the creature is in league with them?"

"Of course," Lily smiled sweetly. "I could be playing a double-agent, or I could simply be being kind. He is actually rather nice."

A growl-like gargle rose in my throat but I suppressed it behind a cough, but I made no effort to keep the coughing polite, on the contrary, I gave it as much diaphragm as possible, and when I was finished, felt mildly soothed.

"Better?" Lily cocked a brow.

I nodded.

Remus was tracing a path across the quad toward the other two – Black and Potter, and they were shortly joined by Pettigrew, his hair peeled back from his face with some sort of pomade. Remus reached out a hand to touch his head, and he ducked, and laughter filled the group. How I dread that sound, I can hear it ringing even in my ears as I write this.

Lily whispered to me, "I saw Professor McGonagall in the other corridor. I'll just bring her here with a problem with my wand. She'll need to come into the sunlight to see it."

"Hurry," I told her, and deliberately sat down on a bench, aware that the Marauders had caught sight of me. Black was the first to bound over.

"Hello, Snivellous!" he exclaimed. "Let's see, shall we?"

He attempted to take my book, and I resisted. I hated his handsome face so close to mine. It was as if his mere existence was there to taunt me.

"It's just potions," I told him, keeping my book firmly in my hands, for it was my borrowed potions text, in which I have many secret notes. I am not one to steal, but I wish I could keep it after courses are over. I even put my name in the front; that is, the secret way I have of referring to myself.

Potter pulled out his wand, and pointed it at me. "Give it over, Snape."

"It's mine."

"No it ain't," Pettigrew vociferated. "He's borrowed it from the cupboards in Slughorn's room, it's no more his than the tri-wizard cup is mine!"

"Let me be," I said quietly, knowing I needed to draw it out, as Lily and McGonagall were still nowhere to be seen.

And then Potter hexed me with a particularly painful hex and when I recovered I had no choice but to scramble to my feet and respond with the first thing that came to my mind.

"Langlock!" I exclaimed, pointing my wand at Potter, and then at Black. Both of them immediately began to gag and claw at their mouths. Pettigrew was terrified.

"What have you done to them!" he screeched. "What is it?"

Remus crossed his arms, his eyebrows furrowed as he watched his friends. "He said _lang-lock_. Lang is a derivative of the old gaelic for –"

"I've sealed their tongues to the roofs of their mouths, you imbecile," I replied. "And it's from the French not the Gaelic. It will wear off in a matter of –"

"What on earth is going on here?"

McGonagall came sweeping across the courtyard. Lily was nearly running to keep up, her face pale.

"Snape has jinxed Sirius and James!" Pettigrew howled. "He's killed them!"

"What have you done?" the professor demanded, turning to me, after witnessing Potter and Black's continued melodramatic performances.

"It's just a jinx, like he said," I replied.

"Which?"

I shrugged. "I made it up."

And that is how I ended up in detention. Lily passed by the door and gave me a sympathetic look, but I pretended I didn't see her, though it wasn't her fault. I will come even with Potter yet.


	12. Chapter 12

It is a warm day today. I saw Lily last night, in the library, and we talked. I am thinking about when Lily was holding my hand, and how I should not like that to happen again, and I am consequently confused. Part of me wants to be near her, more than anything, touch her in some way, to speak kindly to her, and have her speak kindly to me. And the other part of me can hardly bear to be in her presence because of the awkwardness I feel, because of the widening discrepancy between her bravery and my vulnerability, and because of the hatred that I feel for myself for not being able to properly express affection.

I could blame it on any number of things, but I mostly blame myself, for being so different from everyone else. And then I get so angry.

I've been reading ever since courses ended, sitting under my favorite tree. It is an elm, like my tree back home, and I suspect that is why I like it so much. It is on a little rise so I can see all that occurs about me, and with a stack of books by my side, my wand in my pocket, I feel almost normal. At least as normal as one can feel when they are in constant fear for their wholeness from a group of four marauding animagi.

That is correct, rumor has it that they are working on becoming animagi. Lily tells me that Remus told her that it is in effort to help him when he goes through his transformations. This could be touching, just reading the words written upon a page, but not to me, because I know how they are, and they are only kind (if you can call it that) to each other. Anyone outside of their little foursome suffers their wrath most fearfully, and then their loyalty to each other is worse than a curse to the rest of us.

The yearly O.W.L's are coming up again. I have continued to test at a genius level, but it no longer surprises the professors, in fact, I get no special treatment from it whatsoever, which is more than acceptable to me. I would not have anyone else know this for all the world.

The mind is a complex thing. It can retain information regarding the most complex of potions, and yet forget what one ate for breakfast; it can recall what color an individual was wearing the day they met, but it forgets what one is meant to be doing from one minute to the next. It can feel so many emotions, emotions without names to describe them, in layers, like an onion, and so that just by looking at an individual one would never detect the complexity of the strata that makes up the conduct that they see. It can only ever be known by the person themselves, I fear. And the reason I fear this is I think sometimes it would be nice to be known. Simply known, and understood for who you are.

I do my best to understand Lily, but sometimes I fear that I do not do well at all. I am not gifted in the area of empathy and society, I am gifted in the area of precision and intellect. These things can be overridden for a short period of time, but I cannot help but wish that even when I have no more energy to fulfill expectations, someone would be there to absorb who I really am, whether or not it is usual. I feel that with some practice I would like to do the same to someone else. Someone. I say someone and behave so secretly. I mean Lily.

I mentioned that I saw Lily in the library last night. She sent me a note that asked me to meet her in the usual place, which is the aforementioned shelf in the restricted section. At ten o'clock sharp I was there, clambering up the shelf and drawing my robe about my legs as I situated myself at the top. A few moments later I could hear Lily's light tread, her quiet breathing, and reached down a hand to help her climb up. It has become an unspoken tradition that whoever is there first is to aid the other, as climbing in robes is hard, and though one becomes stronger in form and limb as one becomes older, the agility of when one was a smaller person can never be altogether recovered.

"Thanks," she said, once she was safely up, and we hunched in the shadows. There was no moon to shine upon us, and so the blackness seemed to press upon my eyes and make every sound we made seem even more significant.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "I'm terribly sorry about this afternoon."

"It could not be helped. I am simply glad that my jinx worked – I had never tried it before."

She snickered. "It was hard not to laugh, with them carrying on so."

I nodded. "I imagine it was rather uncomfortable. That is the general concept, at least."

Lily leaned forward, and her elbow bumped my bent knee. "Sorry," she muttered. "I heard something new today which may be interesting."

"I hope it's serviceable, that would be more to the task."

"It's that the Marauders have drawn up a petition and are trying to get signatures. They're going to take it to the headmaster and see if he will adopt it."

"What does it say?" I asked. I was scarcely interested in what their next hairbrained idea was. It was likely all a trick, anyhow.

"I'm not sure," Lily replied, drawing in her breath. "But it has something to do with beginning classes no earlier than 11 a.m."

I snorted. "That's not going to help."

Lily shrugged. "Never mind then."

We sat in silence for a long moment, and at last I spoke:

"Lily?"

"Hm?"

"Are we best friends?"  
She laughed quietly. "Of course."

"Don't you think that it's a little peculiar?"

I could imagine her furrowing her brow in the darkness.

"Peculiar? No. Why?"

"For instance, you're in Gryffindor, I'm in Slytherin."

"They're just two different houses."

"They're theoretical opposites. You're a girl and I'm not."

She mocked surprise. "You're not? Well spotted – thank you for clearing that up. I'd always wondered."

I smiled. "You know what I mean. And also, you're certainly one of the most well-favored people I've ever had the good fortune to meet and I'm daily reminded that I have all the personal magnetism of a boggart so I just wondered if our friendship ever struck you as strange."

Lily shook her head. "You're looking at all the wrong things, Severus."

I sat forward with my elbows on my knees and listened.

"You are talking about basic facts; house, gender. Either that or outward things like appearance. It would be a sad world in which best friends have to look alike, behave alike, and do all the same things. We're best friends because we met and had a lot in common. We were both outcasts, lost, and lonely. Even though some things may change over time, our friendship won't because of its basis, and the simple fact that we like each other."

I have to admit I did not have anything to say to that. At last I managed, "Is there anything you think that could separate us?"

Lily hesitated. "Reasonably, yes. But I just trust that those things won't occur."

"Like what?"

It is strange, but though I am often ahead of most everyone else intellectually, and can predict what it is they are even going to say next (most people are so predictable) when I am around Lily I become like an attentive pupil.

"Differences can be tolerated in other people that will separate close friends. Just as close friends will tolerate differences in each other that would separate other people."

I have been thinking about that. Lily is very wise for her years. We changed topics soon, and after a lively chat about our past memories together (in which she reminded me of my attire when she met me, which no doubt was rather atrocious) we returned to our houses. Here I am now, and my candle has burned so low I can hardly see what I am writing. I think I'll close here.


	13. Chapter 13

Last night as I lay in my bed and wrote the previous entry, I dripped some ink upon my pillow. I didn't think much of it, but when I woke up I had apparently lain in it, for everyone was staring, and a few were laughing and pointing, especially Mulciber and even Rosier, so I went to the bathroom and saw a great splotch on my forehead. No matter how hard I scrubbed I could not remove it entirely, so I tried to comb my hair over it and made my way, rather late, to the Great Hall for breakfast. I kept my head down as I helped myself to a piece of toast and buttered it, and drank my pumpkin juice in a hurry.

Everyone was already dismissing to their morning courses, and I walked past Lily on my way out.

"Tired after staying up late?" she whispered with an impish smile, and I shook my head. Unfortunately, this caused my hair to move and she caught sight of the mark and took in her breath.

"What happened?" she asked in a shocked tone.

"Nothing, it's just ink," I told her. "Does it look dreadful?"

She nodded, and after looking about us, stood on her tiptoes and whispered in my ear, "Can you skip your morning class? What is it?"

"Herbology. I know the information already from reading the indexes of plant properties in potions."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Come along, potions master. I can help."

We ran at a breakneck pace through the now-cleared hallways, and arrived at the portrait which hides the entrance to Gryffindor.

Lily turned to me. "I'm going to say the password, so just..." She waved her hand.

"I won't listen," I explained, and cast_ muffliato_ on myself, a spell I invented and have used a few times, which fills the ears with a strange ambiance making it nearly impossible to hear words or conversations properly.

Therefore I saw Lily's mouth move, but heard no words, and the buzzing subsided in a matter of seconds. I still did not hear Lily's next remark though, as she hurried me through the deserted common room.

"Can you repeat that?" I asked her.

"Oh, yes, I asked how on earth you got such a great splotch on your forehead."

"It inadvertently dripped last night while I was writing in my journal," I said, and she gave me a funny look.

"You keep a journal?"

"Protected against intrusion."

She laughed. "Don't worry, I just think that's funny."

We followed the winding staircase upwards to her dormitory, and when we reached her room, she went to her side table, and opened the drawer. I caught sight of my piglet sitting on her pillow, looking slightly oblivious to the goings-ons. Lily held out a tiny round container.

"What is this?"

She looked sheepish. "It's make up, some cheap Muggle stuff from my Mum. She was throwing it away, but I saved it, thinking I might want it someday."

"What's it's purpose?"

She stared at me, and then recovered. "Girls and women wear it on their faces to cover up imperfections like spots and freckles and things."

I was bemused. She unscrewed the lid to show me a fine, buff-coloured powder. There was a round sort of applicator within, and she told me to push my hair back from my face and she would put it on. I obeyed, and shut my eyes as she brushed the stuff against my skin.

"Does it look bad?" I asked as she scrutinized me, and then licked a finger and brushed at the edges of the area.

"Not at all. You're so pale the stuff's a little darker, but it's better than the ink."

"Do you think anyone will notice?"  
She shook her head.

That was the most eventful thing of the day. I have nothing really better to record, except that Lupin got sent to detention, for the first time I have ever witnessed, of his own accord. This was during ancient runes class. Then I watched quidditch practice because I had nothing better to do. The ink seemed to have faded by the time I rinsed the Muggle stuff off my face for bed. Now it almost looks like an old bruise, and that's nothing new.


	14. Chapter 14

I feel like the stupidest person in the world. Sometimes I am happy thinking back upon the facts that I am, technically speaking, more intelligent than anyone here, excepting maybe the professors, and even then I have my doubts. That sounds arrogant, doesn't it. But it is in moments like these where I wonder if being me is even worth it at all.

I was just pondering the safest, decentest of things, and watching several fifth and sixth year students walk upon the grass, sit and study, talk, prank each other, and generally behave like typical young witches and wizards when I sighted a pair of people, one female and one male, catch a hold of each other, front-wise, and kiss. It was rather appalling in public to be sure, but suddenly, it was as if all the world suddenly made sense to me, filling my mind with complete thoughts in an area I had never pondered before. And it wasn't just that they were kissing, for I turned away at that, it was suddenly everything, everything uncomfortable, everything strange and unexplained, and I realized, in full blown detail... If I knew for sure I could could blush I'm sure I would be blushing as I write this, but I had never pondered the way of a man and a woman together. The way that procreation occurs. It just made so much sense, the way that a man is built, and the way that a woman is built, and I suddenly had to leave, so I got up and gathered my things together in disarray and began to walk back toward the dormitories as fast humanly possible. All of the sudden, everyone I looked at was a gender, no longer just a person, or a student, or even someone with a name like Mary or John or - _Merlin_... Lily.

I've been out of sorts all day. It works. It makes sense, and the entire world must have understood this long before me. This explains every unexplained function I've ever wondered about, every change, every oddity... Suddenly I am extremely unhappy with my newfound knowledge. Not that I could ever kiss, or Merlin forbid, do anything more with someone without it being awful (and not that anyone would want to, for I am thin and pallid and generally undesired by the female sex, a fact of which I am being constantly reminded by the other students) but it seems to make the world so much of a more complicated place, and it was already complicated enough.

* * *

Hello again. I stopped writing earlier because I did not know what else to write, and my thoughts were a mess. So I tried to go to sleep, but it did not work. Now I am writing again, but I have nothing else to say. It is dark, and secretive when everyone else is asleep.

I have never told anyone this, but I do not have a uniform this year. My robe is too short from previous years, and my trousers and shirt are much too small. I can wear my tie, but not the jumper. And so, worse coming to worst, I had to choose between the lot and invested in a longer robe. I wear tie which shows at the neck, but as the robes for this year button all the way down, unlike previous models which only button at the neck, I can get away with wearing nothing but underpants underneath. It would be mortifying, should anyone find out, but no one knows, because my robe goes all the way down to the ground and then some. I feel like a giant bat, and people say I look like a Death Eater. I think it is meant to be an insult, but I have been researching and it sounds as if it's not entirely a bad thing to be.

That is all. The sun is beginning to rise now so I think I had best get up. Farewell for now.

**Author's Note: Hello! I would really appreciate it if I could get a review from someone who is reading this! So far I have only heard from one awesome person on this whole entire story. I know that the Harry Potter archive new posts get buried in less than an hour, but still, from the statistics I can see that a few people have somehow managed to find this anyway. I would love to hear your thoughts, even if it's just a line or two. Sooo... incentive. A reluctant hug from Snape and the promise of a free potion? Thanks! -Viola**


	15. Chapter 15

The weather's begun to turn cold, and soon we'll all get sent home for holiday. I've been all out of sorts anyhow, but this is certainly not a pleasant prospect to add to the equation. I think I have finally realized what it is about quidditch that irks me so much. Considering also the facts that I'm fairly sure I've stated before, that it is an enormous waste of time, it seems a needless risk of life and limb. Each time I watch a match or practice I cannot help but mutter defensive enchantments under my breath for the players in danger, regardless of team. The only exception is when Potter is in the air. I'm sure his narcissism will protect him if he falls.

I never wrote about an incident which I suppose I should. Not that I am ever going to forget it, as it was the single most humiliating moment in my entire life. Worse than the day my mother said she suspected I might be a squib because I was so quiet, worse than the day my father beat me senseless and I woke up with no clothing whatsoever and all sorts of people in the house... I was so angry I wanted to die. So ashamed I wished I could just vanish into the veil.

I've told no one about it. Enough people witnessed it as it is. Everyone was laughing except Lily. I seem to write that phrase a lot, don't I. Except Lily. Probably because it is so true. I somehow feel it will always be this way.

It happened underneath the elm tree. I don't know that I'll ever sit there and read again. I could see them coming, but that was nothing to draw my attention away from the book I was reading, which was from the library, a text called Confronting the Faceless, and was about the dark arts. The chapter in which I was absorbed dealt with the customs and initiations required to become a Death Eater, something which I have found fascinates me more and more. I will talk more about this some other time.

Regulus Black came up to me first. He is not what you'd call kind to me, no one is, but we talked after a quidditch match once. He is the seeker for Slytherin, and he mostly just complained to me about his brother Sirius. But he also has an interest in the dark arts, and I suspect that is why he sought me out, for I read extensively and know almost more than anyone else here on the subject.

"What are you reading?" he asked, toiling up the hill, and leaning against the trunk of the tree. I held up the text wordlessly, and he nodded.

"Thought so. Have you been reading the stuff that's in the restricted section on the –" He stopped short, and I looked up to see the hated foursome coming our direction. Regulus scowled.

"Better be off," he murmured, and promptly descended the other side of the rise.

Sirius Black called out above the rest of the group. "Wait! Regulus! You'll miss the fun!"

"What fun?" I said, standing, and crossing my arms. "As far as I know promptly fun vanishes whenever you arrive."

"Not that you'd know anything about fun, Snivellous." Potter pushed his glasses farther up his nose and peered at something on the other side of the tree. "What's that?" he said in a strange voice.

I looked behind me, and the group rocked with laughter. I took the opportunity to sit back down and resume my reading.

Pettigrew edged up close to me and said, "We've been hearing rumors."

"Hm," I responded. Profound.

"Rumors about the dress code violations being perpetrated by certain students..." Potter clarified. "Of course, we thought of you. Your clothes are the worst I have ever seen on anyone other than a scarecrow!"

The others laughed, even Lupin.

"He might _be_ a scarecrow, for all we know."

"He scares more than just crows," Pettigrew put in.

"That's for the birds!" roared Sirius.

"Caw! Caw!" Potter waved his arms, his robe flapping in the breeze. "Come on, Greasy. Show us your outfit today. We all know you haven't got a proper uniform."

I clenched my teeth. "I'm wearing the robe, same as you."

"And what else? Mum's blouse?" The space between Pettigrew's teeth made the word whistle. "Dad's jacket? Come on, let's have a look!"

I was having enough, my reading being interrupted and all, and so I pulled out my wand, intending to curse the little rat, and this time with something worse than my old toenail-growing hex, but Potter was quicker, and through some inconsistency I will never understand, spoke aloud the spell I had invented, but had only cast non-verbally.

"Levicorpus!"

Pain shot around my ankles as if I was caught n a vice, and I was hoisted into the air by my feet. Even now I have no idea how he found out about my invention. The Marauders laughed and jeered as I was helpless in their power, my wand fallen to the grass below my head.

"Liberacorpus," I gasped, but nothing happened and my robes fell over my face, exposing the entire rest of my body. I have written before of my secret. The air was cold about me.

"Look here!" Potter cried. "Shall I take Snivellous' pants off as well? We can see that he never washes them!"

It is a fact that my underwear is an odd color, but it cannot be helped. I am fastidious about keeping the small amount of clothing that I own clean and pressed. That I have had them washed over and over in indifferent-hued water is beyond my powers. I never thought to bleach such a thing, thinking no one would ever be seeing it anyhow.

All the blood had rushed to my head, and I was gasping for air, as I continued to be dangled by my ankles. My arms fought among the tangle of my robes, trying to free themselves as I heard one voice rise above the others.

"Put him down!"

It was Lily, her voice shrill with anger. "Put him down!"

"Lily," I heard James's voice. "You're just in time. Look at those thin legs –"

"James Potter." Lily's voice was laced with venom. "Do as I say."

"But it's good fun, and we're not hurting him," I heard, along with, "What a numskull! Why doesn't he wear anything under his robe?"

"This will be the joke of the –"

"_Put him down_!"

All I know is that I was deposited none to gently upon the sward, and righted myself, my face ablaze and my hair askew. I settled my robe amongst jibes and cat-calls, and took my wand up with shaking hands.

"Sectumsempra!" I rasped, my voice sounding strange and unearthly.

"Protego!" Potter managed, blocking my attack with his own wand, and then staggering to free himself from the shield he had created. The group retreated down the hill, still laughing amongst themselves, but Potter alone was silent, casting a look back over his shoulder as I stood shaking beneath the elm, Lily by my side. I am not so sure the glance was not meant for her.

"Go away," Lily said, waving her hand at the small crowd that had gathered. "Go back to your own business."

My legs gave out the moment the other students began to disperse, and Lily knelt beside me.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, and I made no response, my breathing coming in deep anguished gasps.

I simply sat there through the last two courses, Lily by my side, and when the area began to fill with students once again, I got up, leaving my books, and stalked back to the dormitory, where I locked myself in, and would not let even Rosier or Rodolphus in until curfew. I held my breath long into the night to keep from crying great sobs of raging anger.

I am going home at the first of next week. Perhaps over the holiday people will forget. I know I will never forgive them for using my own spell against me. Never.


	16. Chapter 16

I've come back to Spinner's End now. I am in my tree, because staying at the house was becoming unbearable. It began the moment I arrived at the platform and came out onto the proper platform, platform 9. I was collared as if I was a recreant child, and towed along for several steps before I realized it was my father.

"You're late," he growled, "And I don't like to be kept waitin'."

He smelled of drink, and it was all I could do to twist away from him. I am sixteen years of age and taller than he is, as he stands at a little under six feet, and I am an inch over that. I have had an enormous growth spurt, and it is all anyone can do to keep their mouths shut about it, I am finding. What is astonishing is that though I am taller than ever, I am fairly sure I haven't gained a stone of weight. That is why I always look so rangy.

It is strange. The things that I remember as a child, the things about my father that I feared, that made me realize when it was coming on, they have all but vanished. That is to say, they have given way to worse things, in many ways. I used to think that it was merely my presence, or the wrong response to a question, or not being quick enough to obey him brought on the rage, but though some areas of understanding increase with age, this one only seemed to decrease. I am looking for a logic to it, something that I could not understand when I was younger. Only now I realize I understand it even less now that I am older because in such a thing there is no logic.

It was all I could do to grab my satchel – I haven't a trunk – and allow myself to be dragged from the station, down the street, and into a Muggle pub. He gave me a shove toward a seat, but as it was a stool, I rather missed and we both toppled to the ground, drawing looks and laughter from the other pub frequenters.

"Sit 'ere and don't draw any attention to yourself," my father hissed in my ear, and I nodded wordlessly. He proceeded to sit at the bar and order himself another round of drinks. I say another because apparently he had been at the pub when he realized it was time to fetch me, simply went and fetched me, and returned to continue his drinking. I then knew it was going to be a bad next few days. With any luck he would get fed up with me, pass out, or leave to find someplace better to continue in his intoxicated state, and I would have a week's peace.

An hour passed in this way, myself perched on a stool at a table in the dim corner, and my father, with his back to me, continuing to silently pour more Muggle mind-poison down his throat. When he got unsteadily to his feet and exited the pub, I had no choice but to follow him, my head down and my shoulders hunched against recognition. I did not want to be seen with _that man._ I did not belong with _that man_. _That man_ hated me, and I knew very well the reason for his unusual disgust with me today was that he was reminded of my very existence, and of my blood. That I was a wizard, a freak in his mind. That was the cry that had brought me out of my tree the day I met Lily.

"Freak! You're a freak!"

It had been Petunia, screaming at her as she was fleeing. We are in some ways alike, me and Lily.

My father's voice broke into my thoughts.

"Just because," he wheezed, walking so slowly that I could practically stand in one place before waiting to take a step and catch up with him, "just because you're home for the holidays doesn't mean you're goin' to do nothing."

I did not look at him.

"You've let the house get into a -" He paused to belch loudly. "...Get into a ruin. While you're off saying spells and gadding about at school the house is falling to bits around us." He fell into incoherent mumblings, and continued to do this until we reached Spinner's End.

Mum was nowhere to be seen, and I hadn't the courage to ask him where she was. I walked about listlessly, looking over the damage that the house had sustained in my father's last drunken rage. The corner where I used to sit was all but caved in, the water stains on the peeling plaster of the wall proclaiming their weakness was caused by wet, seepage, and rot. I poked at the blanket lying on the bed and a colony of silverfish scuttled out. I shuddered, and could scarcely refrain from saying:

"This blanket's awful. Aren't you going to get another?"

I turned to see him looking at me, and then my heart began to beat faster. I recognized the symptoms of it coming on. He took another swig of whatever it was he had in the filthy cub clenched in his hand, and set it down, beginning to rub his hands together rapidly, almost compulsively. Sometimes in the night I awake in a sweat, thinking I hear that sound.

I vowed not to let him beat me, not this time. I am all of sixteen years old, and as tall as he, and ready to be finished with this kind of life. Bullied at school, bullied at home; there seems nowhere I can simply be let alone.

But my cowardice was great.

"Come here, boy," he muttered, and my footsteps obeyed. He grabbed me by a great handful of my hair and pulled my face close to his, his putrid scent filling my nostrils as he stared at me with glazed eyes and a gaping mouth. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

"I wasn't –" I began, full of brave intentions, but his fist buried itself deep into my stomach and I doubled over, speechless with pain. I had not anticipated it, and at the moment I sincerely doubted if anything within me was still intact. My knees failed me and I fell to the floor. His booted feet battered my ribs, and it was as much as I could do to curl into a ball and shield my head from the blows.

"Get up!" he screamed at me. "Get up!"

"No," I managed. "No, I can't."

"I'll tell you what you can and can't do, you arrogant –" He used a word I do not know, and so I can only assume it is a Muggle expletive. And I thought I had learned them all from previous experiences like this. I doubt anything can astonish me now.

I untangled myself, stepping on my own sleeve and falling flat before scrabbling to my feet, my father's raucous laughter filling my ears.

"Run, you coward!" he shouted. "Run, and don't come back!"

I intend not to. Not this holiday at least, nor any other after if I can help it. Apparently some students are allowed to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas, and I am going to inquire into it. It is cold here in my tree, and my anger is the only thing that keeps me warm.

I am going to write about something else now. Looking upwards in my tree is intensely fascinating, and if it weren't for the pounding in my head and the aching all over the rest of my body, I think that I would endeavor to fit some shelves higher up.


	17. Chapter 17

I wish there was an adequate way of expressing one's innermost heart to another. Words, even, are not enough, and goodness knows I am not the most eloquent of persons, though I do enjoy a well-phrased thought in writing. I am saying this because something occurred that made me painfully aware of how utterly incompetent I am when it comes to expressing my thoughts. My heart, if you will. And I wanted to share it with Lily, to tell her that I would be there for her, and that if I could help at all I hoped she would tell me how. And yet I sat silent, because I was at a loss for words. What a fool I am. How I feel for her.

It was the day after my last entry that I was in my tree when I saw a strange haze hovering over one of the houses in Cokeworth, which is a near walk from Spinner's End. All the houses there are nearly identical, and nearly identical smoke issues from their chimneys, but from this particular house's stack issued smoke of a brackish green hue. And this was not the bright green that hurts one's eyes that signals a successful trip through the floo network. This was the powder Lily and I had exchanged, telling one another that if anything ever happened, we were to place it in the fire, and send up a signal. I ran from the tree without my jacket.

It wasn't a long distance from the river to Lily's house, but by the time I reached it I was winded, for I am no runner, and the cold air hurt my lungs. A dusting of frost covered the front step, and I heard it crunch under my feet as I lifted my hand and knocked hurriedly, and then knocked again. The door opened to reveal Lily, standing in the doorway in a pair of jeans and a jumper of a pinkish color which seemed to make her hair stand out with more fire than usual. Her face was pale, swollen, and traced with tears. I stood on the step like an idiot.

"Your face," she whispered. "Again?"

I shook my head to show her it wasn't important, and managed, "What's happened?"

Lily rushed forward, so I opened my arms, and we stood in the cold, locked together like something that could never be separated.

"I just got word from Dad," she managed. "He's in the south, for business."

Business. That all-encompassing Muggle term that can mean anything in the world, I'm finding. So she was alone in the house, that much I'd gathered, for she told me her Mum was going to Scotland to visit an ailing relative.

"What's happened?" I repeated again, continuing to let her hug me. What could I do? Half of me hated it and half of me loved it, but I quickly realized how utterly selfish I was being thinking of myself at all.

"There was a train crash on the way to Anstruther. The trestles fell through over the river and –" she choked off. "No one survived."

She buried her face in my shoulder, and all I said was, "Let's get inside, shall we?" I kept my arms about her as we walked indoors, and simply sat down in the hallway. I had never been inside Lily's house before, Petunia wouldn't allow it. I came over once, and she said:

"That dirty boy is not setting foot in here, I don't care what anyone says!" One would think she was the mother. The mother had been gone that day. Now she was gone forever.

Poor Lily.

"Dad is on his way, and Petunia's coming too – she was with Aunt Meg," Lily managed, still flooding the front of my shirt with tears. "I'm so afraid. I'm so afraid something will happen to them too..."

She was gasping and choking and making all manner of alarming sounds, so I asked where the cups were kept and got her a glass of water, and returned to her side, kneeling down and handing it to her. She shook her head, but when I pressed it into her hand, took a tiny sip, and went into my arms again.

"Don't leave," she whispered. "Don't leave me alone."

"When will your Dad be here?" I asked her, daring to put a hand on her head. Her form relaxed into mine like a rag doll.

"Three days," she murmured, her eyes falling shut like a tired child's.

I sat there and stroked her head as I had once stroked a dog that approached me, and said nothing, though my heart was full. In fact, my brain was running quickly, conjuring up and vetoing phrases, sentences, condolences, answers, philosophies, and comments, while my lips remained sealed, and my hands active in her hair and upon her back. I don't know how that came to me, I have scarcely ever touched anyone before, and certainly not in the kindly comforting sort of way. It is the truth that I have not learned it by someone doing that to me. Perhaps it is instinct. Then I hated myself for theorizing when my best friend had just lost her mother.

I stayed the night there with her. She took me up the stairs and showed me a room which was lavender and had a white windowsill and informed me that was Petunia's, and then she opened the door at the end, and showed me a plain room with pale colored walls and a colorful quilt upon the bed, and a partially unpacked trunk. I slept upon the floor at the foot of her bed with a blanket.

"Are you certain? You could sleep in Petunia's room," Lily said to me after she had dressed for bed. I was sent downstairs, and investigated the other rooms of the house. Muggles are fascinating in their tastes.

And I said that sounded like a dreadful idea, and that I was used to sleeping in the floor. I put a protective enchantment over her once she was asleep so nothing would disturb her. I know that when I am upset all I wish to do is forget, and wakefulness is a hateful thing. Oblivion becomes blessed, the darkness a haven, and the lack of feeling a hallowedness that should not be interrupted for a long while.

Comfort is a treacherous thing. It can masquerade as any manner of other feelings, but I lay awake all night, listening to Lily breathe, and watching her sleep in the moonlight. I would do anything to have kept this from her.

When she awoke it was early, and I had not thought to remove the restfulness charm, so she lay in a sort of daze watching the morning light play over the quilt. I removed the spell from her, and she rolled over, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

"Mum," she whispered, and so I sat up and regarded her with a sober face.

"Morning," I told her. "Are you alright?"

She made no reply, but heaved a huge sigh, and let fall a few of the tears into her pillow. I rummaged among her things in her trunk and retrieved the piglet, pushing it beneath her inert arm and beneath her chin. She smiled at me through her tears.

"I'll make a mess of him," she managed, reaching up and seizing the toy around his middle, and holding him out for her to see. "Poor thing."

"He's soaked up more tears than yours," I told her, and consequently she held it to her face and looked peaceful for a moment. "You're a good friend, Severus," she said at last.

"What makes you say that?" I hunched my shoulders forward and used my folded legs to brace myself against the wall.

"I suppose I should get up," she said quietly, not answering, and sighing again. "I don't want to, though."

"We've got all manner of things we could do while we wait for your dad," I told her, thinking it would be good to keep her mind active. "We could do homework."

She laughed outright, and I was glad to hear it.

"No, I don't want to do homework, Severus." she told me. "Do you?"

"Yes," I replied. "We are tasked with the essay on ancient runes. And a report of an historical account of the use of transfiguration. Have you got yours?"

Lily shook her head. "Been a bit preoccupied," she murmured, and I felt stupid. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and got out and in the process I saw more of her than I have ever seen before, not covered with nylons that is. Her skin is the palest of colors, and she even has pale freckles on her legs. I tried to keep the direction of my mind under control.

Her gown settled about her, she stood with her hair strewn over her shoulders and said, "Are you hungry?"

I nodded. "I am always hungry."

"Just don't hoarde any of this. I doubt we've got anything much anyway."

So she put on her robe and we went down to the kitchen, and she got out some oats, and a banana, and some raisins, and we had oatmeal with brown sugar and fruit. It was very good. I wouldn't have imagined that oatmeal could be so appetizing – when my mother makes it it is flavorless and thin. But the amount of oats that each of us ate would be added to nearly twice as much water and divided between us, and that made to last for at least two days, which may be partially why. I don't wish to sound greedy, but I look forward to the food at Hogwarts. It is plentiful and good. There is not much over the holidays. Perhaps I should stay with Lily more.

We played wizard's chess all through the morning, which was very stimulating, though Lily began to be fidgety about about 1 o'clock.

"Shall we go out a bit?" I asked her, and she answered:

"I think I'd like that. Is the river frozen?"

"Why don't we go and see." That was the most fascinating come-back I think I have ever said. I could just have easily said yes, it was, for I knew that it was, but this way I was able to facilitate further conversation without outright lying, and so I consider that very clever and good.

Lily clattered back up the stairs to dress, and so I soaped and rinsed and dried the dishes, and presently she returned, wearing her some different jeans and a jumper, and a coat and scarf.

"I haven't got my coat," I told her, and so she gave me one of her dad's to wear. It was much too big, but kept me warmer than mine would have, and so with Mr. Evan's coat flapping in the wind about me, and Lily's scarf firmly knotted around her neck, we ventured out.

We walked toward the river, which was indeed frozen and threw rocks out into the middle trying to get the ice to break. Then, as the snow was beginning to fall, we began to walk back. Lily was seeming a bit cheered. She talked about the gossip of what Gryffindors were doing what over the holiday.

"Mary was going to stay with her grandparents, and they are very wealthy."

"Hm," I said, because I honestly don't care about Mary at all, but I like listening to Lily talk about most anything. Then she talked about the Marauders, because they are Gryffindors in spite of all.

"I heard someone say that Potter's family was taking a vacation to France, and that they wouldn't be back until a month into school. Isn't that lucky? He gets to miss opening exams, which are _dreadful_..."

"But you always do well," I put in. She does; she is smart.

"It's just an awful way to begin a year, I think. 'Let's see how much you've forgotten since last year,'" Lily said this in her funny imitating-no-professor-in-particular voice, and I laughed. She is the only person who ever makes me laugh. She laughed too, and then added, "Black is going home, I heard him say, though apparently he hates his family. I don't know about Pettigrew and Lupin, but I rather hope that Pettigrew comes down with a terrible malady and misses the entire year's worth of sessions."

I was so glad her spirits were cheered a bit. But it did not last long, as there was nothing bad she could say about Lupin, and when we got silent she began to remember.

"My Mum was wonderful, you know," she said quietly, sniffing a bit. "I don't know if you can understand, not having your mum about, and all." I knew she was just rambling, so I let her ramble. "Once she took Petunia and I shopping for shoes, and I wanted these dreadful silver ones, and she bought them for me. Petunia was allowed to get a pair with heels. And then we spent the day walking the other shops and looking in, and then we ate dinner at the pub."

At last we had rounded all the houses in the district, and it was beginning to get dark, so we headed back to the Evans' house and ate more oatmeal for dinner. I had best stop writing now, because it is late. More tomorrow.


	18. Chapter 18

The day passed uneventfully, but the evening held many things. It was too snowy to go out at all, so we stayed in and when it grew dark we lit an enormous fire and took turns reading to each other long into the night. When it was Lily's turn she read from the Tales of Beedle the Bard, which are childrens' stories, and when it was my turn I read to her from The History of Magic, and so we were by turns entertained and educated. It must have been nearing eleven o'clock when Lily stopped in the middle of her chapter and looked up at me.

"Are you tired?" she asked.

I shook my head. "You?"

She shrugged. "Not particularly."

There was a long silence.

"Shall we keep reading, then?" I said at last, my voice sounding loud in the room. The fire had burned low, and the cold was seeping in around the edges of the house. Lily was sitting in an armchair and I was sitting with my back to the remains of the fire, and without replying, she shut the book and slid to the floor next to me.

I felt myself grow stiff – it is a reaction I can't seem to break when someone is near me. Lily notices every time. However, this time was different, for she confronted me about it.

"Are you alright?"

I nodded, my mind suddenly flooded with imaginings the likes of which I am ashamed to relate, even in this secret volume, imaginings of a terrible carnal nature, of curiosity and the overpowering need to be satisfied someplace deep within me, and the desire to satisfy someone else in the same way. No use keeping up pretenses. To satisfy_ her_ in the same way. But I greatly feared that I could not, and thus I began to quake ever so slightly. Lily's brow furrowed.

"What is it?" she whispered, her breath brushing my cheek. I met her eyes, our gazes shadowy in the dim chamber.

I shook my head, and my hair fell from behind my ear to hide the half of my face near her, a welcome obscurity. I held my breath when she reached up and brushed it aside.

"Severus?"

I let out the air I had been holding in my lungs and said, "Lily, it's nothing, come off it, will you?"

She looked a little saddened. "Sorry. I just wondered what you were thinking."

"You don't want to know."

"I do."

"You don't."

"I tell you, I _do_," she insisted. "I promise I won't laugh."

"Scream, more like," I answered dryly. "No."

And so we sat in silence, side by side, so close it seemed impossible that we were not touching each other in some way, and yet I was so keenly aware of every part of my body that I knew we were not, for if we were I could just imagine how the slightest touch of hers, in a situation like this, would set me ablaze.

The ticking of the clock filled my ears. My vision was growing blurred in an effort to not look like I was staring at anything in particular. I could feel her eyes on my face. It was getting to be too much to bear.

"Lily," I said at last, sounding breathless and dreadful. "I am wondering..." I trailed off, cowardice surfacing and vanquishing the other feelings that pushed and shoved for a position on the front lines of my mind.

She nodded. "Wondering..."

"Wondering if we should be heading to bed."

I winced. What a choice of words. In ordinary circumstances, Lily would not have even noticed anything amiss, but of course, it was my luck that I should turn an odd colour and thus give away my thoughts on what I had inadvertently said.

"I – well, I suppose," Lily said. "It will be cold up in the bedrooms compared to down here."

"Anything is warm compared to my house," I said, mastering my meager powers of conversation, and feeling my body relax the slightest bit at the fact I may have successfully changed the subject.

I exulted too soon.

"Severus..." Lily began, and I shut my eyes. No. No. I love her. I love her. I cannot say. No one can know.

"If I bring blankets down here, will you stay with me?"

I found myself nodding wordlessly. I sat like a stone as she rose and her footsteps mounted the stairs. Soon she returned with a several blankets, and tossing the pillows from the armchair upon the ground, she proceeded to lay out a pallet. A pallet. One.

I turned my back and stirred the fire to new life, putting another small log upon the embers and trying to urge it to flame. I pulled out my wand from my pocket and was about to cast _incendio_ when Lily appeared next to me and began to coax the fire in the Muggle way, by blowing gently on the coals. I don't think I'll ever watch someone make a fire again without thinking of her. The gentle light shone upon her face, making it a burnished golden hue, shadowing the dips and rises of her nose, her gently curved forehead, her rounded cheeks. Her lips were very slightly chapped from the cold air, and the firelight cast the fine lines into deep grooves as she blew, and I watched in shameless curiosity of her beauty, the fire being kindled in the hearth nothing to the fire that was being blown to a blaze within me.

She turned with a smile once the flames licked at the log and remained there, slowly blackening the dry wood, the uncertain orange light filling her eyes. My thoughts must have been painted on my face. Merlin, how strange this is for me to write. I have re-imagined every moment of this since then, but I did not realize how awkward it would be for me to describe in actual, Latin-based language. This does not do it justice at all. Not even half.

Her hand reached up and hovered between us, hesitating for a moment, before again alighting on my hair, her fingers tangling in it gently and pushing it back from my temples. I caught my breath at the shiver such a simple act sent through me.

Lily's gaze was no longer latched to mine; in fact, she looked away, a blush covering her face, the firelight casting a deep shadow upon her face through her down-turned lashes. My hand was shaking worse than the first time I had tried to conjure the imperius curse, which is a great secret, as it is supposed to be unforgivable. I wanted to touch her cheek, but my strength failed me and I ended up with my hand upon her shoulder, which was a wondrous feeling in itself. Beneath my hand was skin and muscle, flesh and bone, a part of a living breathing entity, that was neither actively moving away from me nor trying to harm me. It is something I have rarely experienced, and now I can understand how it is that the logical mind can be dulled and the power of the senses heightened to the point of supremacy. It is not at all a mistake that I compare this to the imperius curse. It was as if I had no control over what happened next.

She touched my head again and I felt my neck muscles go weak, and my head fell back, my eyes closing. Her fingers traced my lips, and I took in a shaking breath, hoping against hope I would not do something to ruin this moment. I looked at her and saw her gaze focused on me, analyzing every feature of my face, from my forehead to my eyebrows, to my eyes themselves, to my nose, my cheeks, my mouth, and even my chin. I did the same for her. I have every feature of hers memorized, imprinted upon my memory, but especially her eyes. They are round, and clear, and everything eyes should be.

I moved my hand from her shoulder to where her jaw joined, just in front of her ear, and sent all my powers of feeling to my fingertips. Her skin was smooth, and my fingers just caught on it, dragging ever so slightly and making the tiniest of indentations wherever I touched. I followed the line of her jaw to her chin, and saw her bosom rising and falling with deep breaths in the shadows. Then I touched her lips with the side of one of my fingers. They parted ever so slightly, and what followed was something very near a kiss to my finger. Where her lips had been felt moist, and when I began to finger her hair it was as if all restraints of propriety, of friendship, even, for I was sure I would never be anything more, were cast aside, and she caught me beneath the arms and drew me into a tight embrace.

This was different than any other embrace of hers, and there have not been very many bestowed upon me. Truly, yesterday alone contained more hugging than I have ever experienced in my entire life up until now. She clung to me as if her life depended on it, and I found myself doing the same as our breathing grew deeper and the sounds of it filled the room. I could feel every part of her form against mine, and as we slowly lay down intertwined, a part of me touched her that made her stiffen ever so slightly. I would have apologized if I had been able to find my tongue.

I like to fancy that both of us knew what was in the other's mind, but neither of us had the courage to do more than curl up in each others' arms and continue to let our hands roam each others' faces. At last Lily drifted off to sleep, my arm beneath her head and her hand upon my chest, and slept that way until morning.

I feel dreadful, but I am painfully aware of the fact that this is our last day before Mr. Evans and Petunia return.


	19. Chapter 19

All day Lily was very quiet. I have decided that it is a combination of the reality of her Mum's death sinking in, the first day being an exhaustion of grief, and then a strange rebound of normalcy, followed by the coldness and stillness of unchangeable fact. At least I am hoping it is this, and not that she regrets the manner in which we fell asleep last night.

We did not do much, except realize that some tidying up was due if things were to look in proper order for Mr. Evans and Petunia's return, and then try our best to do it. I was little help, I am afraid, as I told Lily that I hadn't the faintest concept of what to do with the pile of clothing upon her mother and father's bed – was it clean or dirty? It would have been rude to sniff at it – and I did not know any cleaning or tidying spells. The only cleaning one I know is scourgify; that is one that Potter cast upon me once and it filled my mouth with soap. I was spitting bubbles for days afterward, and I can still taste the bitterness if I think about it long enough. I would rather not, really. I had almost forgotten about them in my happiness at simply being with Lily, even if were were just trying to decide what to do with laundry.

At last she spoke about it. I was in the kitchen, looking in the cupboards and reading packages (it was very interesting to see what sorts of things Muggles eat, and the great amount of work they have to go through to prepare it) when Lily came and stood in the doorway.

"Severus?" she said, and her voice sounded strange.

I closed the cupboard and turned to look at her. She is so beautiful.

"What?" I sounded absolutely forbidding. I generally do, it's not something I think of to change, or when I do, it's almost always too late. She didn't seem to notice, just stood there, one hand on the doorframe, her feet crossed, looking at the floor.

"Last night," she said at last. "Did that make you uncomfortable?"

I opened my mouth and then closed it again, then opened it again, realizing too late I probably looked like a shrake.

"If you're asking if I would do it again, then the answer is yes, yes I would," I said at last.

She gave me a soft smile. "We're still best friends, right?"

I nodded. "Lily..." I said it in a strange way. She looked at me, and took her hand from the doorframe, twisting it within the other. "I don't know what to think."

She looked away. "I'm not sure thinking is the answer," she said quietly.

"I wish it were. The world would be so much simpler."

She nodded. "Wouldn't it?"

When night fell, we didn't speak of it anymore, we just went upstairs because we had taken up the pallet, putting the blankets and the pillows back where they belonged. Lily shut the door and I waited in the hallway as she changed for bed. I waited until I was fairly sure she was finished, as I did not want to startle her, and then knocked and said through the door:

"Lily?"

"Yes?" her voice came. "Just a minute."

"I just wondered if I could have a wash."

The door opened and she regarded me with mussed hair. She saw me staring and blushed, smoothing her hands over the place where her hair parted, and replied, "If you like. The clean towels are beneath the sink; when you're finished it can go in the hamper."

I nodded and crossed the hall to the bathroom, and fumbled with the faucet for a long while. It was different than the one at Hogwarts and did not make much sense, but after spraying myself, fully dressed, with cold water, I found the warm and turned it on as I pulled off my clothes and folded them in a pile. I had been wearing them since I came to Lily's and felt mortified that I had not realized it until now. I generally don't think of such things, though I like to keep as clean as I can.

Stepping into the warm water, I grabbed the blue-ish bar of soap and set to work, soaping my hair as well, as there were assorted bottles of girlish-looking products and I did not want to smell like a flower garden, and the black and green bottle of what seemed to be Mr. Evans' shampoo looked expensive and I was afraid of using too much of it.

It took a long while to rinse all of the soap out of my hair, but I finished as quickly as I could and turned off the water, stepping drippily on the mat and taking a towel from the cupboard beneath the sink. It was the softest towel I have ever felt, and before going to Hogwarts I had never even used a towel. I simply put my clothes back on after getting out of the bath and they eventually soaked up the damp. I toweled the water off my body and scrubbed through my hair for a while, which was a dreadful idea, as it tangled and stuck out like a badly-pruned shrub, and then I looked about for my clothes. They weren't in the bathroom, so I tied the towel firmly about my waist and stuck my head out into the corridor. There was a tidy stack sitting before the door, a plaid shirt, and a pair of trousers. Folded discreetly inside the trousers were a pair of underpants, with a tiny handwritten note _I hope they fit. Dad hates this shirt anyhow._

Retreating within the bathroom, I pulled on Mr. Evans' clothes, and then emerged, crossing the hallway and entering Lily's room. She took one look at my hair and fought back a smile.

"What happened to you?" she giggled.

"Bath," I supplied, and she merely commented:

"I'm glad the clothes fit. They're a little big, but my dad's much broader than you."

I had noticed, but most everyone is broader than I am. Lily was digging through her drawer and at last found what she had been looking for. I winced.

"Are you up to the undertaking?"

I shook my head, entirely in jest, but she beckoned for me to sit upon the bed, and I did so, not realizing until the comb was in my hair what that she intended to do it herself. She was gentle, but it took a long time for her to finish. She kept telling me to hold still, and so I did my utmost.

At last she stopped, and I turned my head. "Are you done?"

"Yes. What do you put in your hair, Severus?" she asked curiously.

I felt a shrinking inside. My hair has always been oily, even when I wash it. Somehow I had hoped in all this that she wouldn't notice, or if she did, that she wouldn't care. Of course, it was probably too much to ask. In truth, it disgusts even me, but I don't know that anything can be done about it.

"Soap," I told her. "Isn't that right, when there's no shampoo?"

"Was there no shampoo?" She looked surprised.

"Well, there was the pink stuff, and then other stuff, but I was afraid it mightn't be alright."

"It's just as well," she murmured. "That pink stuff is Petunia's, and it reeks. I usually use Dad's, when I'm home, it doesn't smell half as bad."

I ran my hands through my hair. I don't think a single hair crossed another, that is how detangled she made it. It was starting to stick out in the errant way it has of doing, some pieces going toward my face, some away, and some no direction at all, so I just began to ignore the mirror, as it brings nothing but discomfort to me. My nose is truly enormous.

It was quite late, so Lily used her wand to turn out the light from her bed, and left only the side table lamp on. I was still sitting on the edge of her bed and she eyed me with a blank face. I took her hand, because I wanted to, and because I felt more confident knowing I'd just had a good scrub, and that it was now a fact that I had nothing unpleasant under my fingernails or behind my ears.

"Severus..." she began, her eyes enormous, but I didn't look at her eyes, I just looked at her hand and lifted it to my lips, pressing it there and holding it for a moment as I inhaled. I hoped that was alright because goodness knows I have never kissed any part of anyone before at all, not even my mother's cheek as I've seen other young men do.

"Lily," I said, because she had just said my name, and it seemed fitting that I respond in kind. She sat up once I released her hand, and tilted her head to one side. A thought was making its way from her mind to her lips, I could see it as plain as if it were written on parchment.

"Thank you," she said at last. "For being so good to me."

I was dumbfounded. That was not the thought I expected.

I stammered, "T-thank you? What do you mean, thanking me? I should be thanking you, for everything, for being so kind, for–"

"I mean for staying with me. And being so good. I don't know what I'd have done for three days by myself after such news." She laughed ruefully. "I might have gone mad."

"I wouldn't let that happen. I'd die myself if I thought that it might help you in any way."

It was perhaps a poor choice of words now that I look back on it, considering that her mother had just died, but she didn't seem adversely affected.

"And I feel the same way. It kills me every time I see Potter or any of the others being cruel to you." Her voice rose. "And I just boil inside, like a cauldron, like something is going to explode if I don't do something, or if _you _don't do something, if someone doesn't _tell _them to stop being such arrogant mean-hearted _children_, picking fights with others who are different." The vehemence in her voice would have shocked anyone who did not know the fiery spirit that lies beneath Lily's beautiful exterior.

"I like it that you're different. I like it that you're not like everyone else. Merlin forbid that I exult in your past, but it has made you the way you are. And you have a good heart in spite of what everyone thinks, in spite of being sorted into Slytherin, in spite of how horrible everyone is to you, and in spite of the fact that everyone who looks at appearances only see you as ugly, but I know more and therefore I think you're beautiful."

She stopped, breathless, and I was staring, my heart pounding as she finished. I was in shock. I have always loved Lily Evans, but truth be told, I had no idea how she tolerated me. I still do not understand. But it meant more than anything in the world to me to hear her utter these words.

I wanted to kiss her. I said so.

Lily blushed. "If you insist," she said demurely, but that was not what she meant.

I turned on the edge of the bed and knelt so I was facing her, and carefully leaning in close, we kissed very gently. I cannot describe the exquisite bliss.

Before we knew what we were about, we were lying together on her bed, and my arms were about her, hers about me. Her fingers were in my hair and I touched her skin everywhere it was exposed, and even some places where it was covered with the thin fabric of her shirt. She did the same for me, tracing her hands down my back, over my shoulders, and down my chest. She unbuttoned a few of the top buttons of my shirt and traced her finger over my collarbone, and then whispered, "Would you be embarrassed to take it off?"

"I'm not handsome in that way," I told her, and she made no reply, but finished undoing the buttons and cast my shirt to the floor. It is a fact that I am very thin and very pale. But she did not seem disgusted, simply traced each of my ribs as if they were a beautiful curiosity, and when she accidentally ghosted her fingers over my stomach I shuddered and the burning someplace else about me intensified exponentially.

"You have to return the favor," I said in a husky voice, and Lily gave a tiny smile. "I'd – I'd rather not," she stammered, so I just took the hem of her shirt and pushed it up a little ways, admiring her alabaster skin. I had not known the fascination that simple skin can hold; it is not merely the presence of a flawed or unflawed epidermis that is so magnetic. It is that the very shell of a living, moving being is so totally vulnerable to your gaze which makes the mind wonder if there are some things that are unfathomable after all.

I followed my instincts like the creatures who are without reason. Some places seemed meant to be kissed, so I kissed them. The places I wished to caress I caressed. And in turn, Lily loved me, touched me, accepted me, and made me the happiest half-blood that has ever breathed.

**Thanks to CMRiddle for the lovely review! You're awesome, and I'm so glad you're enjoying. If there are more of you out there, let me hear what you think! -Vi**


	20. Chapter 20

Hello, again. I am not at the Evans' anymore, though Mr. Evans insisted I stay the night when Lily told him discreetly of my alternatives, but I felt it was time to excuse myself, and Petunia seemed quite happy about that. But let me begin with this morning.

I woke up early, Lily nestled against me. Hers is a face I would be happy to see every waking moment of my life, and so I smiled, and I can say with absolute certainty that this was the first time I can remember smiling when first awakened. Smiling is not a common thing for me, usually it's only Lily who can make me, so I suppose shouldn't be surprised, really.

I nudged her. "Lily."

She stirred, and her nose crinkled slightly as she inhaled; she made no verbal response, only sighed.

"Lily, your father will be here soon."

At this her eyes opened, and then I realized, both of us awake, and sitting in the dawn's sunlight which streamed in through the window, that I was still very much shirtless.

"Merlin," I hissed, diving from the bed and searching about on the floor for my clothes. It was my luck that I chose the wrong side, and so I had to scuttle around the foot of the bed and snatch up my shirt while Lily watched, a strange look on her face.

I stood there, clamping the fabric to my bare chest, and stammered, "T-turn around?"

"Severus..." she said ruefully. "Let me see..."

It dawned on me that the bruises which were heavily laid my torso must have escaped her observation in last night's events, and that only now she was seeing my battered form for what it was: unattractive.

"Did your father do that to you?" she asked in a quiet voice as I obligingly lowered the shirt and stood there, slouching, and bare to her view. My stomach rose in and out beneath my jutting ribcage; for some reason I write that because my gaze must have been cast down and so I noticed.

"Does it hurt?" Lily whispered. I shrugged.

"Not so much anymore." I took in a deep breath, and pulling the garment over my shoulders, did up the buttons, clenching my jaw without really meaning to.

"You shouldn't let him do that to you," Lily said.

"You think I can help it?" I snapped, my tone angry in spite of myself. "You think he asks my permission?"

"Stand up to him. Tell him to stop."  
"You don't understand," I muttered. "What time are we expecting them?"

Lily looked confused for a fraction of a second, as apparently she had more to say on the subject of my father and just realized I had switched to the topic of hers. However, she answered:

"I don't know. He just said before noon."

Lily clambered out of bed and tied her robe about her waist, pushing her hair back over her shoulders and peering in the mirror. Then she looked shyly back at me.

"Severus..."

I stopped fingering my hair and met her gaze.

"I... I think –"

I was unconsciously holding my breath, but a crash below us made us both jump, as a high-pitched voice was heard chattering, and a man's voice boomed:

"Hello! Lily?"

"Up here, Dad!" she called, immediately bounding for the door, and descending the stairs in a patter of bare feet. I followed her and stood on the landing as she ran into his arms and the two remained in a silent embrace for a long moment. It was Petunia's stare that brought them to the subject of my presence.

"What's he doing here?" she said, peering at me. It is a pity, because though she is not nearly as pretty as Lily, she could be tolerable if she did not always have this _peering _aspect about her. Perhaps she should get a pair of spectacles. I greatly despise the concept, as it irrevocably conjures up images in my head of the gorgeous Potter, with his thick hair, and his shining eyes looking out from behind his round spectacles.

Lily looked over her shoulder and saw me, and said, "Oh, Daddy, this is Severus. You remember him?"

"I said what's he doing here?" Petunia repeated petulantly. "Lily!"

"Quiet, dearest," Mr. Evans said, putting a hand on his elder daughter's shoulder. "It's alright. Hello, Severus. It has been some time."

"Hello," I managed, getting down the stairs without tripping, and nodding to him.

Mr. Evans looked at me strangely, and then to his younger daughter. "Lily? Is that – the shirt, isn't that –"

"Oh, yes," Lily said hurriedly, adding, "–but I told him how much you hated it and that it would be alright." She accompanied this by a significant look which he seemed to catch; I can only assume by this that she intended to communicate my need of it, and that he oughtn't to make me feel uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.

"Indeed. Indeed. Despise the garment, I do. You may keep it, if you like."

Lily smiled.

"In fact, please keep it." He nodded. "Do us all a favor, and banish the hideous thing from all of our sight."

"Severus has been staying with me since the news," Lily said quietly. "It was very good of him."

"Quite right. Thank you," Mr. Evans said earnestly, extending his hand. I rather stared at it, and Petunia giggled. I had forgotten the Muggle way of – well, I don't properly know what it's for. It seems to be a gesture that can express most anything, so I took his hand quickly and gave it a shake.

"I was happy to be of service."

Petunia snorted, and Lily glared at her.

Mr. Evans continued, "Will you be joining us for luncheon? I'm afraid there is a deal of things to be set in order..." He gave a wearied sigh. "But you are welcome to stay as long as you like."

"No, I had best be getting back," I replied. "You all have my sincere condolences."

"Thank you." He nodded. "And thank you for your care of our Lily."

I have a guilty feeling accepting his praise, knowing very well that I took shameless advantage of our situation, and having the decided unction that he would not be so cordial if he had known how exactly his daughter and I had been spending our time together. It was suddenly very awkward to be standing before them in his clothing.

A strange buzzing sound went off, sounding like a doorbell or alarm of some sort, and Lily left us, returning shortly with my clothing, washed, and somewhat folded. It was warm, which was strange, but pleasing.

"Thank you," I told her. "You needn't have washed it all, I could have done it."

"It was no trouble."

Petunia rolled her eyes. "Don't believe what she says, she hates chores. Doing things the 'ordinary way' is too much work for a per –"

"Petunia," Mr. Evans said sharply. "Must you? Now?"

She simply left the room. I suppose a little grace should be extended to her, seeing that Mrs. Evans was her mother too, and she is likely to be out of sorts. Still. She is very unpleasant.

"Goodbye, Lily," I said quietly, giving her a nod. "I'm terribly sorry."

Lily gave a tiny smile. "Goodbye, Severus. I'll see you at school."

"Right."

"Thank you."

And so I left, walking home through the slushing snow. My father was not at the house. There was no food, and so I flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, and washed dishes there for my supper. Even as I write, my hands smell of the strange scent of their self-soaping dishcloths. But considering that they were invented by a Hufflepuff, and considering that it did pay for a decent supper, I suppose things could have been worse.


	21. Chapter 21

Hello. It has been several weeks since I've written, but I have not really been in the mood. An update is in order, I suppose: the weather is fine, but overcast, the sort of day that I like, so far the year has been tolerable (in that very literally, I have been able to tolerate it), I turned 17 and am properly in my last year of school here, I am wearing a proper uniform which I got secondhand – in case you were laboring under the delusion that my wardrobe was from Twilfitt and Tatting's – and I am not sitting under my elm tree as I write this. From past experience it would seem that the Marauders had designated it as their primary spot to find me when I was in need of tormenting, so I abandoned the post and now am sitting in one of the empty classrooms. It is my sincerest hope that no one disturbs me.

Many things have changed. Not the least of which is the famous James Potter, who returned with his family from their holiday in France, and to whom everyone has taken a new liking. If only they knew what I know. He has grown – he is nearly as tall as I am now – and has a disgustingly handsome aspect about him. His speaking is different – he no longer boasts that dreadful northern pitch to his voice – and he has caused hardly any trouble in class. At least nothing that has landed him or any of his other precious foursome in detention. Everyone, even the professors, say he is destined for great things. He is even nearly civil to me. I hate him.

Pettigrew is failing his classes, Sirius has become a bit tamed by Potter's change, and I haven't the faintest notion of what Lupin is doing these days. I saw him earlier today while in the library, reading "Hairy Snout: Human Heart," which is an anonymous autobiography of a wizard with lycanthropy. Fitting choice for the creature. Rosier saw him reading it as well, and piped up:

"Lupin! What is it you're reading?"

Lupin held up the book, and shrugged. "The interest it purely academic."

"Right. I've been wondering something, actually. You may be able to help." Rosier gestured toward the book, and the creature nodded.

"Sure."

"What happens when you moon a werewolf?"

All within earshot erupted into a symphony of chortles and Lupin turned an odd colour and muttered, "I don't know," hurrying off. I was ashamed of the whole lot, Roiser for making such stupid jokes, the others for laughing so uproariously at something that was not even funny, and everyone at once because out of the lot no one had a proper answer that would show Roiser just how stupid his joke actually was. Do not think for an instant I am defending Lupin. Only demeaning the idiocy of Rosier at that particular moment.

Ah, but I am being interrupted. I hate being interrupted in anything that I do. It is Lily. She is ever the exception. More later.

* * *

Lily came into the room, and I knew it was her without even turning around. She has grown taller over the past year, become more formed, and is even more beautiful, if that is possible.

"Severus!" she said, her voice sending echoes up to the ceiling of the chamber. "What are you doing down here? It's a fine day."

"It is overcast and threatens rain," I responded. "I thought you liked sun and wind."

"I do, but this is your idea of fine, isn't it?" She put a hand on her waist and looked at me with an unidentifiable expression, which quickly changed to one of curiosity.

"Is that your journal?" she said quietly, gesturing and crossing the floor, tugging on the bench from the row of desks in front of of me, and sitting on it backwards so that we were across from each other.

"Yes," I replied, nodding, and pulling it out of reach. "It is private."

"Severus, everything you do is private," she replied reproachfully.

I heaved a sigh. "Yes, well, it must be that way, mustn't it?"

"Why?"

"So that no one can see what it is I really think."

"Are you ashamed?" Lily toyed with the end of a long strand of her hair, but kept her eyes fixed on me. I must be careful, they are the sort of eyes into which one can be caught inadvertently staring for an inappropriately long time.

I looked away. "Not ashamed. Just secretive."

"Secretive?" She smiled, and left off twirling her hair, leaning forward. "Tell me."

I shook my head. "You won't like it."

"I like this even less."

"It's nothing. Just my thoughts, and what happens to me. As if I'd ever want to remember, or anyone else to find out." I snorted. "I've the private intention of burning it as soon as the book is filled."

"No!" Lily looked aghast. "You wouldn't dare!"

I nodded. "I would. It's just to have someplace to put my thoughts. Once they're deposited here I have no further use for them."

"Keep study notes in there," Lily said, bobbing her head with finality. "That will increase it's value to you, and you'll never dare burn it."

I chuckled, muttering, "Why would I do that..."

Lily's eyes were sparkling, and she leaned forward once again, changing the subject. One thing I love about Lily is that she does not press in where she's not wanted. Though Merlin knows that if I had no pride I would tell her all that is written here. Sometimes I feel that I would do anything for her.

My face grew stiff and my heart felt dark when she started speaking anew.

"Have you talked at all to James this quarter?"

"_James_?" I hissed. "Is that what you've come to call Potter?"  
"It's his name, Severus," she reproved me. "We're in Gryffindor together. It would be unsportsmanlike to keep calling him by his last name, we're in our final year."

"No, I haven't," I replied. "And I don't intend to._ Potter _can keep up this head-boy act for as long as he cares. I know who he really is."

"But that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Lily began.

"Well, I don't want to speak of it."

"You're my best friend, Severus –"

"Then have some pity and shut up!" I exploded.

The room rang with echoes following my outcry.

Lily took a deep breath. "Just consider that we might have all been mistaken."

"I am not mistaken," I muttered. "And you? You used to say he was an arrogant toe-rag."

"He was," Lily agreed, nodding vigorously. "But people can change –"

"Not this much."

Lily met my eyes. "Talk to him. I think he might even apologize if you asked him."

"An apology!" I barked. "I don't want an apology from the likes of him! It means nothing, Lily, _nothing_!"

"Settle down," she said, taking my hand, but I snatched it away.

"He's the _enemy_," I whispered. "Don't you remember?"

"He's a Hogwarts student, Severus. We're all on the same side."

"You fancy him, don't you."

It just slipped out. Lily was dumbfounded.

"What?"

I shook my head, unwilling to repeat it. "Never mind. Nothing."

"Severus..." She looked at me so reproachfully. I was ready to do something drastic to change the conversation. So I took her hand again, and she looked at it, then back at my face.

"How are you?" I asked.

She blinked. "How am I?"

I nodded. "With... your mum, and all."  
"Ohhhh." Lily took a deep breath. "Alright, I suppose. It's not so bad now that I'm back at school, and busy, but..." She sighed. "I try not to think on it too much. And to not be mad at Petunia when we're so far away from each other. Mum never liked it when we fought, you know."

I nodded, and decided that enough physical contact had been given, so I released her hand, and stood up.

"Is the day still fine?"

We paused, and the drumming of the rain of the windows high up in the walls of the basement room confirmed my sentiments. Lily giggled, as I said in a grumbling tone:

"Well, I suppose we must go and be in it."

It is a fact that we spent the rest of our free period in complete silence, walking about the quadrangle, getting drenched in the downpour. And yet, it was very nice. I almost forgot about the conversation we'd had about Potter.


	22. Chapter 22

I feel dreadful. It would seem that walking about in the rain is not the best thing for one's health, and though I am quite well, Lily is not, a fact which I first noted when she was absent from breakfast. I kept scanning the Gryffindor table until Mulciber and Malfoy kicked me under the table and I hissed in pain.

"Stop," I commanded, twisting back around once more, and seeing at last, between two Gryffindors, an empty space. I turned back to Mulciber and addressed my irritated question to him.

"What was that?"

"What are you doing? Something going on in Gryffindor?"

"No," I lied. "And if it were, it's none of your concern."

"None of yours either," Malfoy put in with a smirk. He thinks he is better than everyone else because he is in Professor Slughorn's elite society group. Lily is as well – but she is not a snob like Malfoy.

I finished my food in silence, and when we dismissed, I hurried to the entrance of the Gryffindor common room as quickly as possible. I was not the only one who had noticed Lily's absence. The portrait hung ajar, and within Professors Slughorn and McGonagall were within, discussing Lily in low tones.

"She's not well at all," McGonagall was saying, and Slughorn shook his head.

"Nothing more than a common cold brought about by the inclement weather, I'll wager," the potions master replied.

"I think she should be sent to the hospital wing." McGonagall was firm. "She is burning up, and weather alone doesn't give someone a fever."

"Is it an infection?" Slughorn crossed his arms. "I can brew something for that."

"I am no mediwitch, but it didn't seem so. She is just tired, chilled, and running a temperature."

"How high?"

"Between ninety-nine and one hundred."

I thought it time to announce my presence, so I cleared my throat and stepped within. Both professors turned and regarded me with astonished looks.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Snape?" McGonagall asked crisply, hurrying toward me. "If I am correct, you are supposed to be in Herbology."

"I was checking on Lily."

She exchanged glances with Slughorn, who stepped forward.

"Miss Evans is none of your concern, Snape. We'll get her taken care of. Nothing more than a mild case of scrofungulus, no doubt." He smiled, as if that would set my heart at rest.

"Can I see her?" I asked, and Slughorn looked shocked.

"Certainly not!"

"A Slytherin has no business in the house of Gryffindor, let alone visiting an invalided student there," McGonagall said. "If she is sent to the hospital wing, then perhaps, but –"

"She is my best friend," I blurted out. "And I was with her in the rain all yesterday afternoon, and so it is quite possibly my fault."

Professor Slughorn's eyebrows nearly touched his hairline. "Indeed! Well, we could brew her something with –"

"Star grass and lionfish spines," I interrupted.

"Or simply give her over to the ministrations of Madam Pomfrey," McGonagall finished, though Slughorn was still staring at me for suggesting the proper ingredients.

"Professor?" a weak voice was heard calling from the top of the stairs. We all grew silent.

"Which, dear?" McGonagall called back.

"McGonagall," Lily replied.

"Coming," she answered, and swept up the stairs, out of sight. Slughorn turned to me.

"Now, you go down to the greenhouse this instant. You've no business here."  
I nodded silently and left, but the rest of the day my mind was with Lily. The moment my classes ended I went back to Gryffindor Tower and fortunately, the portrait was abandoned – I had sighted it's inhabitant flirting with Sir Cadagon on the sixth level on my way up. I unlocked it with the simple _alohamora_.

I cannot be certain, but it seems to me as if either the ghost of Professor McGonagall's presence lingered in the common room from earlier, or one of the portraits on the will there looked very like her when she was younger. An immense fireplace was there, and behind it the staircase down which I heard Lily call. I hurried up, no longer caring if my footfalls were loud.

"Lily?" I called, the spiral leading me higher and higher into the tower. "Lily, it's me, Severus."

"Severus." I heard her voice just as I reached her dormitory. She was propped up in bed, her hair glowing a fiery color against the paleness of her face, a book open on her lap, my piglet near at hand. She gestured to the worn thing as I caught sight of it.

"Keeping me company," she said with a quiet smile. "How did you get in?"

"Lucky mistake," I told her. "How are you?"

She gave a sheepish smile. "Alright. I feel so silly catching cold after a measly walk in the rain."

I rubbed my nose. "I feel bad now, since it was my doing, really."

"Well, don't. it's not your fault." She grimaced. "It's no fun being sick. I'm missing all my classes and now my grades will fall behind."

I snorted. "I doubt that. It's only one day."  
"Still." She sighed.

I took the liberty of putting a hand on her forehead, and her eyes drifted closed. I am no expert in the area of temperature, but she did seem a little warmer than would be good.

"Are you coughing?" I asked. "I could brew you a draught of something for that."

Lily shook her head. "No. My throat isn't even sore, I'm just dizzy, and running a temperature." She sighed. "At least a cough would make it worth it."

I smiled. "Worth it?"

She nodded, and then got a funny look on her face.

"What?"

The corners of her mouth quirked upwards. "That. I like it."

"What?"  
"Seeing you smile. It's so rare."

I slouched forward and pulled my hair from behind my ears so it obscured a good deal of my face, which made Lily laugh quietly, and reach for me. I found myself shifting nearer to her on the bed, and took the piglet from her arms into my hands.

"So, he is keeping you company."  
Lily nodded. "And very good company he is too. He is telling me all sorts of secrets."

I raised my head. "Secrets? Oh dear."

She clicked her tongue, which looked very red compared to the pallor of her lips. "Terrible things. Like how you stay up late to write in your journal instead of sneaking out to see your friend."  
"It's too dangerous now," I retorted. "Though Merlin knows I miss it."

"Do you?" She cocked her head. "I had wondered."

I turned to face her. "I always miss seeing you. I think... I think a good deal of you."

"And I know I don't say it enough, but there are a lot of good things about you too," Lily replied, twisting her hands into her coverlet.

I shook my head. "You're a gallant liar."

"I never lie." Her eyes were clear. Soon she looked away and her gaze fell to my hands, lying uselessly by my sides, thin, ink-splotched and lined with assertive veins that show through the skin. She took one into both of her hands, and turned it this way and that, looking it all over. It was my left hand, and I cringed a little when she pulled on the sleeve. I have been reading about those that receive the dark mark, and that is where they wear it – on the inside of the left arm. As such, I have begun to experience almost a burning sensation in the area, likely from bestowing upon it so much thought.

"I never properly told you," Lily began in a quiet voice, after taking a few deep breaths and letting them out again, sending little gusts of warm air over my face and through my hair. "I mean, I never properly communicated how glad I was – I mean, how grateful I was that you... when you..."

I simply took her hand and pressed it to my lips, and when I felt her arm tense ever so slightly, and continue to tug, I leaned in, and kissed her on the lips as well. The simple action set my body aflame. And yet I could not pull back, I could not stop myself as I shifted my legs to be beneath me on the bed, so that I was kneeling beside her, my hands intertwined in her hair. A small noise came to my ears as the piglet, forgotten, thumped to the floor. And then Lily very gently put her hands on my chest and pushed me away, and said, "Don't leave him down there."

So I favored her with a second smile.


	23. Chapter 23

I wish I could say that things ended as I left off writing last night. But unfortunately, they did not. Unfortunate of unfortunates. But this is not a work of fiction.

The moment I clambered back to my feet after retrieving the piglet, I heard the door open somewhere beneath us and a voice calling.

"Lily? Lily!"

Lily's face was instantly covered with a panic-stricken look. "Severus!" she hissed. "Quick, hide, they can't find you here!"

The fleeting thought passed through my head of diving beneath the bed, but the coverlet would not hide me and I had serious doubts about getting all of my lanky form beneath the small space anyhow, so after a moments' hesitation, I dashed across the room, the piglet still in my grasp, and hid myself in the recess of a gabled window, draped in the heavy curtains.

The voice came again, and I placed it with a malevolence beating through my heart as if my blood were made of bile. Potter.

"Lily! Can I come up?"

"If you must," Lily replied, politely, and the famous new head-boy clattered up the stairs as if he owned all of Gryffindor tower. I could hear their voices from my hiding place, but I could not see a thing.

"McGonagall said you were ill."

"It's nothing, just a cold."

"Rotten luck, though. The prefects had the lead the trip to Hogsmeade for the third year girls."

"That's alright. I certainly wouldn't have been up to it."

"What is it, then? Muggle flu?"

"No." I could hear the scowl in her voice. "And those with magic blood can still catch muggle diseases, so don't sound so superior."

"I'm not." If I didn't know better, I could have believed the earnestness in Potter's voice. But fortunately, I am not so easily fooled. "There's a reason why you're top in your class, and it has nothing to do with bloodlines."

"Slytherin doesn't think so," she snorted, and I could feel myself stiffen. How dare she speak against Slytherin and their ideals. True, some of them can take their elitism too far, but surely she had not forgotten I was still in the room. Either that or she was playing a convincing double agent. Too convincing for my liking.

Potter was in agreement. "Yes. I still don't know how you can stand to hang about that Snape fellow."  
"Watch it, Potter," Lily said, pulling his surname out of her back pocket like her secret weapon. "He is my best friend."

"Best friend?" Potter sounded genuinely shocked. "I had no idea. May I ask – _why_?" His tone was filled with complete incredulity.

"You may," Lily replied haughtily.

Potter chuckled. "Deign an answer, your ladyship?"

"We have known each other since childhood. He needs a friend."

"So this is a charity relationship?"

Lily's voice grew strange at the use of the term "relationship".

"Nothing of the sort, and don't forget that it was a mere 12 months ago you were dangling him by his feet beneath the elm tree while your henchmen looked on and laughed."

"Lily!" Potter reproved. "That's changed! I was a terrible boy, a cruel prankster. That's in the past."  
"Prove it."

"I've been doing little else." Again, that earnestness. It set my teeth on edge.

Lily's tone softened. "Well, thank you, for seeing how I am. The professors said if I'm not better tomorrow they'll have me sent to the hospital wing."

"Let's hope that isn't the case," Potter replied. "Let me know if there's anything I can get you."

I held my breath.

"No, but I appreciate it."

"In the case that you do end up with Madam Pomfrey, I think she's still got Remus."

"How is he?" Lily's voice sounded kind, concerned. As if the creature deserved compassion, his condition is a curse, and probably received for good reason.

"Ahhh..." Potter hesitated. "Alright, I suppose. As well as can be expected. He's torn the inside of that shack to bits. And himself too. Poor chap."

"Perhaps we'll be invalids together," Lily said with a quiet chuckle. "As it is, I'd like to have some rest."  
"Right. Well, all the Gryffindors are thinking of you. Feel better soon."  
"I will. Thank you, James."

And his footsteps retreated down the stairs. Even after I heard the entrance to the tower close behind him I did not come out from my hiding place, the rage that had filled me now being replaced with a simmering rancor that consumed my thoughts so entirely it was as if sparing thought for movement was impossible.

"Severus? He is gone." Lily's voice reached me, but it was not enough. "Severus? Severus..."

A long moment passed, I cannot say how long. At last I heard more footsteps, unsteady, and stocking-clad. The curtain was pulled aside, and Lily stood before me in her nightie looking pale, but concerned. "Severus?"

I took a deep breath, and shook my head as if to clear my vision, bringing my thoughts back to her. I had nothing to say. Nothing at all.

"He was just being kind," she began, silently taking the forgotten piglet from my hands. But her legs wavered, and she began to topple forward. I caught her, and helped her back to a seat on the bed where she sat quietly, her head on her knees. At long last she looked up, all color drained from her face.

"You should go."

I nodded silently.

"Get some rest," I said when I had reached the stairs.

She nodded. "I will. Thank you for coming. It was very kind."

The rest of my day was covered in a kind of trance-like gloom. I am a very methodical person; I always awaken at the same time, get out of bed on the left side, and get dressed in the same manner. I splash my face in the bathroom before putting on my robes, and from there on out nearly all my day is delightfully predictable. Things proceed according to plan as much as I can possibly control it, and as soon as classes end for the day, I am free. It is alright to have a planned time of freedom. But I hate weekends, when I never know what to expect. There is a limit to what can happen here, but the limits always seem to be pushed, and that in turn, pushes my patience.

Anyhow, I saw Potter in the corridor, but I ignored him, even though he nodded to me. Foul, sneaking, impudent swang. He thinks that simply because he and Lily are both in Gryffindor and that they are Head Boy and Head Girl together that he will someday have her heart. The thought terrifies me. Because I realize that it is very likely indeed.


	24. Chapter 24

Blame is a habit. If I had been raised with the custom of laying the fault for my actions, my reactions, and my outlook on the world at the feet of the others formative to my life, I have little doubt that I would be even more wretched than I am now. As it is, blaming another was never an option for me. It never occurred to me to consider it the fault of my father that I am withdrawn, for making me feel as if I am not worth the trouble it is to assert myself, and my opinions, and my very existence into a matter. If never occurred to me to consider it the fault of my mother that I never express outward emotions, for I never saw her do so in my entire life. It never occurred to me to fault the Marauders, the professors, and the other awful people in my life for the gloom that hangs over me, sometimes so heavily, that it seems the sun will never shine again, if indeed, it ever shone at all upon one such as myself.

And so it is, that if I were to fall into the habit of blame at this late hour, and lay the transgression at the doorstep of some poor wretch in order to feel that there is a purpose, a cause and effect, a logical reason with a following why I should be the way I am, then I should blame myself. I cannot think what else to do, since the habit was not imbued innately in me, and thus I have no skill in the matter.

I look around me at the other students here, and wonder if they ever feel the same way. Feelings are one of the worst thing in the world, I am beginning to see. Every day I am tempted with the philosophy of denying all feeling, and pursuing knowledge blindly, which will lead me to accomplishment without the hindrance of depression. But I can see how inevitably my skills in the area of potions and deep knowledge about the dark arts could lead to a sense of pride, of happiness, possibly, and then I am once again in the realm of emotion, and am faced with the awful task of contrasting the elation that I feel with myself for succeeding in such things with the failure that stares me in the face every other direction in which I turn.

And then I realize that if I were to deny all feeling and pronounce a curse upon the heart and a blessing upon the head, I would lose Lily. Most certainly, and most irrevocably. I cannot have her in any place other than my heart. Sometimes it feels that I cannot claim even that, and the best way I can conceive to describe it is that I live within her own heart, and that someplace beneath flesh and bone and palpitating organs, there is a cavity which is filled with all the things that she holds dear, and one of them might be me. Then I realize how foolish I really am.

To give up emotion would be to give up Lily Evans. And Merlin knows I cannot do that. Since we are talking in terms of emotion, she is the one thing that gives my life a purpose, the one thing that can animate my movements to some semblance of life, and that can give my thoughts a happy resting place at the end of transfiguration, arithmancy, charms, ancient runes, the history of magic, potions, and the dark arts.

This drives me to ponder if I could not be completely happy with my studies. Rather, content, for happy is not something I should ever strive to achieve, my rationality rallying against me to prove that it is unachievable, and if it were, it would be such a fleeting, useless thing that I should regret every hour wasted in trying to reach it. Nevertheless, I could find an existence in such things. That is it. In what do I find my existence? In the realm of my head, in the things at which I am skilled: potions, the dark arts, transfiguration. In the realm of my heart? In some unattainable, some unreachable place within the heart of a red-haired girl, whose favor I cannot hope to win, or keep. Not in this present path. And yet I cannot give it up. It is too sure a future, too great an interest, and love too fragile a hope on which to stake everything. If I am going to give up anything and everything that I have earned in my short life, it must be for something sure, and this can be provided for me in the darkness of the forbidden magic, and serving a lord more powerful than any can fathom. Not for something as uncertain as love. Yes, love would seem to be uncertain. At least that much I have experienced. I do not wish to devalue my feelings toward Lily, indeed, all my life I will love her, will do my best to keep her safe from afar, and make it that she will never know it was me all this time. And still, it would seem that my choice of life is what is pushing her slowly and surely out of my reach. Can I ever be sure that it is not the reverse? That instead of my choosing the dark side causing Lily to turn away from me, it is not, in fact, Lily turning away from me that is causing me to run into the ever-welcoming arms of the darkness?

I should stop now. The darkness around me as I write is nothing to the darkness which weighs upon my heart.

**Review? Snape is delightfully depressing, isn't he. Please let me hear from you! -Vi**


	25. Chapter 25

Lily has been sent to the hospital wing today. I have not had a chance to visit her as of yet, but she was well for a few days following the initial illness, but once again was seized with unexplained unpleasantries. I hope she is alright. She and Potter have been becoming awfully close, I've found, and I am struggling to accept it. It seems that, while not actually being a traitor to our friendship, they have been on rather friendly terms since late last year, Lily just feared to tell me. I have been extremely depressed.

Lily Evans and James Potter have been receiving the highest honors, and the highest marks. Lily was always a good student, as was Potter, but his criminal record marred his ascent to favor in the professors' eyes until now. Nothing stands in his way as it is. Potter and Evans, Evans and Potter, the perfect pair. It sickens me.

My only comfort in these last few weeks has been my studies. I have been conferring with Regulus Black and Lucius Malfoy more and more, as they share my avid interest in the dark arts, and in the case of Regulus, seem to know even more than I. Lily would not be pleased, I am absolutely certain. She never did approve of my interest in such things, but as I told her, one cannot choose their aptitudes, and mine seems to be in the area of the dark arts. She merely shook her head and inquired into whether I may be mistaking aptitude for aspiration. I pay her no heed.

I was meant to be studying the history of magic, but I covered all of this material in my spare time in my third year, so I was frightfully bored, and feigning to take notes. I think Potter, who was in the desk across the aisle from me, suspected what I was up to. Even a scholarly student would not have this much to write about the international warlock convention of 1289, and Professor Binns was deathly dull, which is saying quite a lot, for he is a ghost.

I hoped that Lily was alright. Rumor had it that she was alright after getting over her initial cold, but that her temperature kept fluctuating, which worried Professor Slughorn, who has been administering great quantities of Pepperup potion. And now it is suspected to be some sort of stomach ailment, as I heard Sirius Black listening to a Gryffindor girl relate how Lily has been vomiting, but trying to hide it so that it will not interfere with her duties as Head girl.

Potter poked me with his wand, at which I took great offense.

"I'm going to the hospital wing as soon as class is over," he whispered. "If you get your nose out of the dark arts long enough, you should come. They say she's been asking for you."

The latter half of the remark overshadowed the rancor I felt at the first; Potter hates the dark arts with a vengeance, and I suspect it is because he cannot get his brilliant mind around the concept that there may be more to the wizarding world than charms and cleaning spells.

"I'll go alone," I replied. "I make my visits when I please."

"Suit yourself," Potter answered, sitting back in his seat. "But it's true."

Knowing that Potter was visiting Lily kept me away for some hours after classes ended. At last, when I could bear it no longer, I turned my steps in that direction, only to encounter Lupin on his way out after being discharged. In spite of the fact that we were indoors, his neck was well-wrapped in his house scarf. However, I could see where the folds fell that he was using it to hide a new set of deep scratches which stretched across his throat. The creature is going to kill himself before he reaches thirty, I am convinced of it. He nodded to me, and looked as if he might have said something, but a little Hufflepuff with pink hair called out to him and his attention was mercifully diverted.

I entered the hospital wing, and saw Madam Pomfrey bent over the recently-abandoned bed of Lupin, overseeing a few mediwitches stripping the sheets. I hope they burn them so that no one innocent like Lily has a chance of contracting his awful disease.

Lily was in the bed in the end, lying on her side with her back to me. To my utter disgust, Potter was _still_ there, talking to her. He was smiling and laughing in an alarmingly animated way, and she reached out a hand to him, which he took. I turned on my heel, and left. As soon as I reached Slytherin Tower, I sat down and penned a note to fly to her.

_ Lily – _

_ I don't understand. I never thought you would betray me. I see that you feel I have been slowly betraying you by my interest in the dark arts, but I never would I have suspected such a foul treachery on your part as what I witnessed today as you clearly encouraged Potter in his slavering affections over you. It makes me wonder if you have no loyalty, and if you should not have been placed in Gryffindor after all, but Slytherin, which I originally hoped. Does our friendship mean nothing to you? Does our love? What about a mere few days ago when we sat side by side and I felt free enough, safe enough in your gaze to touch my lips to yours? What about when we were together at your house? I am struggling to understand. So much so that I believe denial is the best course. There was never anything between us. Nothing of consequence, that is, simply a childhood friendship, which may have led to a carefully sheltered infatuation on my part, but which was unrequited on your part. I may fool the rest of the world, I may even fool you, but I will never fool myself. I loved you, and always will, but I cannot, and will not ever act upon love again. _

_ Severus Snape_

I never flew it to her. As if our spirits were somehow connected in a way much deeper than the form taken by our patronuses, a note came to me, from her, the very moment I had signed mine.

_Dear Severus,_

_ I hope you are alright. I really want to see you. Could you spare some time tomorrow afternoon and come to the hospital wing? I know things haven't been the best between us, and you blame James. Don't. He is a good young man, in spite of what he has done to you, and we have more in common than I ever dreamed. Don't be jealous. I should not have let you kiss me, because it haunts me now. I fear greatly what my feelings are doing to me these days. Also, there is something that I wish to tell you, but won't commit to this note. Don't reply, just come tomorrow. As soon as we pass our N.E.W.T.s, James has asked me to come home with him on holiday. That sounds so innocent, but I know what that means, and I am happy. As much as I have always liked you, Severus, forgive me for saying our paths are not the same in life. You travel the dark road that leads along the shadow ways, while I follow the path to light, and life, and adventure. James helps me to see that the more time that I spend with him. I do not wish to be quick to commit my heart, but as you are my best friend, I urge you to think objectively on the matter, and tell me your opinion tomorrow. I would really value that._

_ All the love of a friend,_

_ Lily_

I permitted myself a few silent tears at her closing. All the love of a friend. Nothing more. In spite of what we once shared, I am relegated to the post of a friend. I wonder if it is worth having, and suddenly do not even want it.


	26. Chapter 26

Hello. It has been some time. I do not wish to say this is the darkest hour of my life, because I realize that looking back over my entries through the years, it is likely to sound laughable how many times I have professed to be at my worst. I still refuse to believe that the occurrences which have surrounded me in the past months are not some sort of sordid prank.

I should return to the day that I last wrote, some month and a half ago. Since then I have finished my final year at Hogwarts, but my accomplishments went uncelebrated due mostly to the distance I purposefully place between myself and the others, and to the throes of confusion and despair into which I have been lately cast. Originally I had no plans beyond graduating and going back to Spinner's End, perhaps trying to contact my mother, since I do not even know if she is alive or dead, so many years it has been since I have heard from her, and trying to make a better life for us. I would not like to get a Muggle occupation, I doubt there are many things I would be good at. It was suggested to me that I stay on for another year and then teach at Hogwarts, but at the time it seemed like it would be good to simply get away. Merlin, so much has happened, I have half a mind to return to that idea, and maybe angle for the post of defense against the dark arts, after all. I can hardly think.

I suppose I should back up to the day a mere week before commencement exercises at Hogwarts when I went to visit Lily, who was once again, in the hospital wing. It was a worrying development, to be sure, how much she had been ill with unexplainable symptoms, and sent again to be under the care of Madam Pomfrey. I caught sight of her bustling bout, her lips compressed into a thin line.

Lily was lying in a bed on the far left side, and appeared to be sleeping, but the trickle of a tear from the corner of her eye, which I could see even from this distance, proclaimed her to be only in the lethargy of great sadness. My heart went out to her, in spite of what we had been going through with her change, and her perceived changes in me.

I caught Madam Pomfrey's eye and she nodded to show that I was allowed, so I approached Lily and spoke her name softly.

"Lily."

She opened her eyes, and her lips parted; at once she tried to sit up, but I beckoned her back down and pulled up a nearby chair.

"Severus." She sighed and closed her eyes when she said my name. "How are preparations going?"  
I shrugged. "Well enough. How are you?"

"I hope that I will be permitted at the commencement," she said, grimacing. "How awful would that be for me not to go after all!" Her gaze, however, remained cloudy, and her thoughts seemed far away.

"What is it that you've got?" I asked after a long pause, but she just shook her head.

"What are you doing after graduating?"  
I furrowed my brow. "You didn't answer me."

"Not now." Lily met my eyes, and with a stab somewhere near the left side of my chest, I realized how long it had been since I had looked into them properly. "You're not going back to Spinner's End, are you?" she continued.

I toyed with the sleeve of my robe. "I don't know. What about you? Home?"

She shook her head, her bright hair catching on the pillow and making a thin webbing of tangled red against the white.

"To St. Alban's, Hertfordshire. That's where James's family lived."  
"Lived?" Her use of past-tense interested me more than the fact she had called Potter by his first name, again.

"Both his parents have died just this past year, within two months of each other. He's taken it pretty hard." She sighed. "But they have left him an immense fortune, and he means to live there."

"Do you?" It came out rather harshly.

Lily blushed. "I wish you would stop acting as if this is criminal."

"It is!" I burst out, causing a nearby mediwitch to shush me. "It is," I hissed, in a more reasonable tone of voice. "I can hardly believe you. This is why we can no longer –"

"No, listen to me," Lily began firmly. "The reason we aren't as close as we once were is your persistent interest in the dark arts, which James hates!"

"_James_ hates!" I exclaimed. "And we can't bear to make James mad, can we?"

"You know I hate it too," Lily replied evenly. "And you should know that it all began when he said he'd stop hexing you if I went out with him."

I knew nothing of this, and was deeply offended I was only now hearing of it. Clearly, I was no longer her confidante. I told her as much.

"He has changed, Severus," she said quietly. "Much. He is kind. He is having both Sirius and Remus live with him after commencement, since the Blacks are simply awful to Sirius, and it is unlikely that Remus will be able to keep a job for long."

"What a touching show of philanthropy," I sneered. "Starting an open house for defectors and lycanthropes."

"Severus, if you begin with the pure-blood drivel, then I –"

"Lily, we've spoke about this already."

"Not enough, apparently."

"What else?" I scowled. "There's more."

Lily took a deep breath. "I am going to live with them."  
I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me, like my father's foot slamming into my ribcage, and she clarified. "We are going to be married."

I heard my voice as if it came from someone else. "Alright, then. It is nothing to me what you do."

"Severus, don't be like –"

"You two can have your affluent lives..."

"You don't understand."

"I understand!" I managed in a shaking voice.

"His generosity–"

"Doesn't extend toward Death Eaters! Only to defectors, lycanthropes, and _mudbloods_!"

Lily stared at me in stunned silence, and I was nearly as shocked at my own words, hearing the slur reverberate around the ward with all the filth it carries – but which is inevitably brings back to heap upon the head only of the one that utters it.

"What did you say?" Lily whispered at last, her eyes full of tears.

"I didn't mean –" I stammered, but Madam Pomfrey had trundled into my line of vision and inquired sternly:

"What are you doing here, Mr. Snape?"

"Nothing, I –"

"If you are going to sit here and do nothing but utter foul words, I must ask you to leave."

"No, I meant to – Lily –" I pleaded.

She was staring at the ceiling. "Just go," she said simply.

My feet took me from the room in complete and utter numbness.

Lily was released from the hospital wing and sent back to Gryffindor Tower that night, and I waited outside the portrait for her to emerge all the long night. The blackness pressed against my eyes and the only sounds I could hear were the pounding of my own heart, my own seemingly noisy breathing, and the eery, low moaning of the staircases as they sporadically changed positions both above and below me. With each inhalation, I thought _Lily._ With each breath out, I imagined _I'm so sorry._ I had not intended the word to slip out. I had not meant it. I would tell her so. And she would turn her head away.

At last the pale of morning streaked the eastern sky across the Black Lake, and I took in a deep breath, shifting my aching legs from beneath me and feeling the tender pull of the ligaments behind my knees. My eyes burned, but I rubbed them fiercely just as the portrait opened, and a young Gryffindor slipped out, nearly tripping over me. I reached out a hand and caught her wrist just before she tumbled headlong from the landing, whose corresponding staircase had decided to move some hours earlier and was due to return anytime, and our eyes connected. She screamed louder than anyone I have ever heard, and after she regained her footing, she bolted back within the portrait hole, vociferating, "Somebody get Evans! There's a Slytherin on our landing!"

I got to my feet, and a few moments later, Lily appeared, her dressing gown thrown hurriedly over her nightie, and hanging loosely from her form which towered over me. I got to my feet, but could hardly look her in the eye.

"You," she whispered, simply shaking her head. "What are you doing here." She did not ask it as if she really wanted an answer, so I just took a deep breath.

"I wanted to ap –"

"For what?" Her lips were pale. "Telling the truth about my bloodline? Don't even bother." A sneer that I hated to see graced her face.

"Lily, I swear, I had no –"

"Just go." She shook her head.

"Don't you want to hear –"

"There is nothing I want to hear from you, _Snape_," she said, uttering my surname with ferocity. "You have hurt me in more ways than you'll ever know."

"I never meant to." I placed my foot upon the single step that separated us, and Lily drew back, as if she feared my nearness. "I never would hurt you if I could help it."

For a moment she looked as if she wanted to believe me, but her eyes were filling with bright tears in spite of her bold words, and I swallowed back a lump in my throat.

"How are you –" I began, intending to inquire after her health, but she simply turned and began to return inside.

I had too much pride to call out after her. But mercy of mercies, she turned and regarded me one more time.

"We may meet again sometime, Snape," she said. "And I should not be sorry. But we have a long day ahead of us, and beyond that, an even longer life. I suggest we both prepare for that – and prepare in our own ways, separate from each other."

With that she left me. That was months ago. I have not been able to bring myself to even look upon this journal since, but today I encountered Lily again in Diagon Alley, and decided that this book deserved to hear a reason for my neglect of it. I will write of our encounter tomorrow.


	27. Chapter 27

Hello again. I am meant to write of Lily and Diagon Alley, I see, though I find myself at this moment wishing more than anything to forget. Somehow I feel that by committing my life to these pages I am ridding myself of it and can look upon a new day with an unencumbered mind. And then the ever-present rationality buried none too deeply within lectures that this is all foolishness, and to simply write, or not write. So I will write.

It was a drizzling, wet day, the sort of day I like. The sort of day that makes you feel that you are alone in a satisfying sort of way in enjoying the unpleasantness of it, a phenomenon manifested very literally in an instance like this, where everyone in the Alley was hurrying along in a dampened frenzy, their robes pulled over their heads, while I alone strode through the wet, unheeding, and uncaring of the chill rivulet that was running from my hair down the back of my neck and inevitably dripping in an uncomplimentary way from the end of my nose.

My errand was of great importance, as I had run out of ink, and that is something I rarely permit myself to do. I had purchased it at once from Scribbulus, and had the parcel tucked in an inner pocket of my robe, and was thus unencumbered as I turned off at the Leaky Cauldron and pushed open the door to light and warmth. There I ate supper in solitary silence, and was just preparing to leave again when I heard the downpour intensify, and saw those preparing to leave subside into their seats and decide to stay put. I had no such plans, and though I had entered through the back door, I had some business in Muggle London and intended to leave from the front door, which is wedged in an odd corner between a Muggle bookshop and a record store.

Unfortunately, however, I exited too zealously and nearly knocked off their feet a figure entering wetly and quickly and was thus face to face with Lily herself. Her hood was drawn up over her bright hair, and it was running water, but her eyes were on mine, and she hastily righted herself as I bowed in a stiff way. I said nothing, not knowing how to address her.

"Hello, Mr. Snape," she said in a breathless sort of way, of her own accord, at long last. "I did not expect to see you here."

"No doubt. Considering the manner in which you charged through the door, you did not expect to see anyone here in this precise position."

A ghost of a smile flickered over her face. "What are you doing these days?"  
"I might ask the same of you." I inhaled deeply. "I thought you were in Hertfordshire."  
"I was, until recently," Lily admitted. "James and I just returned to the area to visit my father and Petunia."

"Hm."

I should have enquired how they were, but I did not feel in the mood to hear the answer, honestly speaking. It was of little consequence to me.

"Remus and Sirius had other business; I don't know what Remus's was, but I'm fairly sure it had something to do with his own family, and Sirius has recently gotten a motorcycle with a ridiculous side-car which he's taken to riding. He and James are absolutely mental about those things..." Lily was saying.

"And you and James are..." I began.

"-Married," she finished hurriedly. "It was at the first of March."

So soon after commencement.

Lily said, "I wanted to owl you, and invite you to come, but we wanted to keep things small, and James said he was sure you wouldn't want to. In the end it was just Remus, Sirius, and Peter." She looked at me with a sorrowful expression.

I could hardly believe it. Such a turn of events. I felt a feeling in the pit of my stomach similar to the first time I apparated, and I did all I could to hide my thoughts from my countenance.

"Congratulations are in order," I supplied at last, bowing again, and Lily stopped short, looking at me with a funny expression.

"W-what?" she stammered, drawing her cloak about her.

"For your marriage." Somehow I managed to make the word sound like some sort of disease one should avoid contracting if at all possible, and I'm not ashamed to say it wasn't entirely accidental.

"Oh, of course." A flush covered her face. "I was just wondering who told you, or how on earth you would have known..."

I was confused for a mere moment, as she removed her cape and hung it upon the rack already swaying dangerously with the weight of the other pub-goers sodden garments. But then I saw clearly to what she had been referring, and I felt the blood drain from my face for some unexplainable reason. Her slim form was altered almost beyond recognition, swallowed up in a loosely-fitting robe that fell softly from the swell of her bosom to rest against a telling area expanded to accommodate developing life within her. Within her. Within Lily. Lily, pregnant, with child, carrying a child, a baby. I don't know why that was somehow so hard for me to grasp.

I mercifully kept my mouth shut, and tore my gaze away, lest I be thought a pervert, or worse, a fool. Lily lifted her head and brushed her damp hair from her neck, before meeting my eyes again.

"Much has changed," she said softly, as if reading my thoughts.

"Indeed," I assented acidly.

"Are you on your way somewhere?"

"Yes," I told her. It was no lie. I was on my way home.

"Ah." She nodded. "I would ask you to join me for some tea, it is so chill out there." She shuddered. "But you've been sufficiently warmed?"  
I shook my head. "I am in no need of further warming."

She smiled again. "I have missed you," she said in a low voice. "And your way of expressing things."

I stiffened, and changed the topic.

"Where is Potter?" I asked, trying to soften my intonation around his name, but not succeeding very well. If ever there was a name meant to be spat, it was _Potter._

"He'll be along in a bit. He had another stop to make, and said I wasn't to see." She suppressed a smile. "He knows I hate surprises... but he's determined to make them anyway. And there's nothing suspicious at all about a place called Nappies and Nighties..."

I was growing extremely uncomfortable with this subject of conversation. But thankfully, Lily sobered quickly, and gestured for me to follow her as she crossed the room and took a seat at a table in the corner. I inhaled a deep breath, and took the proffered seat. Lily crossed her arms upon the table and looked at them for a long while while I was left to study the top of her head, but when she at last looked up there were tears shining in her eyes.

"I have missed you, Severus," she said, and her use of my given name sent a chill of joy, longing, and a thousand unnameable emotions down my spine. I permitted myself a small smile.

"I was sure you hated me."

She shook her head. "That was a hard time for me. Such a hard month, and the next one. James was there for me in so many ways, but..." She shook her head, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "But as terrible as this sounds... sometimes I wished that I could just talk to you."

"You belong with James Potter. You don't need to talk to someone like me," I found myself saying. "You hate everything I have chosen to follow."

My left forearm throbbed even as I spoke, and Lily, in one of the rare ways she seems to be able to guess my innermost workings, took my left hand wrist in her hand.

"But that does not mean I still hate you."

"I called you a –" I could not bring myself to repeat the term, not looking into the face of the beautiful young woman before me. "I insulted you on a deep level."

"You did," she agreed. "But you were provoked on a deep level, I believe."

I could hardly trust my ears. And so I denied them.

"Rubbish," I said weakly. "That's rubbish."

"I tried to contact you –"

"I've been all over."

"I know. I got your information from the ministry..."

"And what did Potter think of that?"

She eyed me sternly. "He doesn't know. And he wouldn't care if he did."

I looked away. "You're on thin ice, Lily Ev – Potter."

"I have wanted to talk to you so many times. You remember in the hospital at Hogwarts? I never told you what I wanted to say."

"Yes, _mea maxima culpa_," I replied, a slight bit of bitterness finishing my voice. "Here we are. My ears have no choice but to take in your words."

"Well, I –" she faltered. "I always thought that -"

Just then, the door opened to admit another visitor from Muggle London to the Leaky Cauldron, namely, James Potter, entering with all the pride of his usual swagger, along with as much as he could garner from the position of husband and prospective father added to the mix.

Lily stood quickly.

"James." She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, while he took in my existence with a strange cast to his face.

"Snape," he said, extending his hand, which I promptly ignored.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Lily murmured. "Can't you two pack it in?"

"Leaving?" Potter inquired.

"I was just telling Lily I could not possibly stay. I have urgent business that needs attention." I omitted to say that my urgent business was the need to get out of his presence.

"Ah. Not bad business, I hope?" Potter's eyebrows lifted hopefully.

"Not bad, presently, but it is growing more urgent every minute," I said carefully. "And I do not wish for it to get much worse. Good evening." I made my bow again. "Lily."

Lily's eyes held mine when I looked up, and turned, striding toward the door, feeling all the while her gaze burning a scorching hole into my back.

I returned at once and was recalled to my business at hand, which was packing in order to return to Hogwarts, having been offered a position as professor, and deciding to accept it. It seems I will be replacing Slughorn as potions master, though my chiefest aspirations had been toward the dark arts. Ah.

I rummaged and sorted in a frenzied madness for at least an hour and finally produced the silent enchantment that finished my word for me.

When I at last retired to bed, I was all a-tremor for the strangest of reasons. I forced my eyelids to remain shut over my twitching gaze, but it was all I could do to keep them that way, and at last was resigned to draping my arm across my face and applying the pressure needed to calm my overactive senses enough to drift into the oblivion of sleep. I entered the world of dreams, which has so often held much more for me than the waking world of reality, but was spurned in this dimension as well. I dreamt that I was in a dark room, and a voice was speaking to me, insisting that I held some great power which I in turn, assured the voice I did not posses. Then a strange tongue was heard speaking, and I felt a great pain which awakened me in a strange numbness. I really must sleep, as I am returning to Hogwarts first thing tomorrow – rather, today, as the clock has just chimed.


	28. Chapter 28

Darkness is my ally. I have finally found my purpose in serving the dark lord. I am not alone, but this is not something that comforts me. Malfoy, Rosier, Karkaroff – a recent acquaintance from Durmstrang – are all in the same service. I have a purpose at last. It is a strangely thrilling thing to come when summoned, and execute missions of silence and danger, knowing you are among the chosen because you are one of the few that can accomplish the master's bidding with due speed and intellect, only to return to the noise and hustle and bustle of Hogwarts life and have no one know a thing. No one except the headmaster, and – more likely than not – Lily. She would have guessed. I try not to think of her these days. But it is nearly impossible. I cannot commit to paper more about the dark lord and my work as a Death Eater. But it is a great, great honor. A greater honor, surely, than was ever bestowed on me by a representative of light.


	29. Chapter 29

I haven't the time to write anymore, but one final entry of consequence must be made. I have been teaching for the last semester here, and gather no enjoyment from it, though it is, no doubt, a good position. I will try and keep this brief, because I am in no hurry to contemplate further what I must write here. Committing it once to these pages, it cannot be relived in the mind, or seen through a pensieve. I mean to burn this tonight.

Albus – I now call him by his given name, as we are all faculty here at Hogwarts, though it was strange to get used to at first – asked if I would do him the kindness of returning to Godric's Hollow, where he grew up, and retrieving something he had left with his brother Aberforth. I agreed because I could do nothing else, and thus I found myself on a warm summer's evening in the tiny wizarding village, when I once again, inexplicably, encountered Lily Potter. My thoughts had not left her all this while, in spite of all. My love for her reaches further than time. Strangely enough, it is her love which drives me to do what I do, though I know that she would hate it if she knew.

I overheard a conversation in the Hog's Head inn between Albus and the newly-hired divinations professor, a woman of little wit and less wisdom, that has brought my thoughts more and more to her, as the dark lord is now concerned by my report.

"Lily," I began, shocked almost beyond the power of further utterance. "What in Merlin's name–"

"Severus." Her eyes were wide. "Who told you –"

"I am here on Hogwarts business for the headmaster," I supplied. "I had no idea..."

"James and I – we've come to live here for a time," she stammered. "It's not supposed to be widely known, not since –"

Fear was painted on her face. It was all I could do not to take her hand, but habit is a hard thing to break, and I have never indulged the expression of emotion, so I could not overcome my instinct to remain as I was even now. It was a strange battle with both sides waging equal strength. I often feel like a man of many opposites.

"Since?" I inquired, knowing my status as a Death Eater was likely to prevent her confiding in me, but risking the kindness nevertheless, for old time's sake. Then I realized what she meant. Since the birth of her child. She no longer bore the altered swell in her abdomen, and her slim, lithe form had returned entirely to its original state.

She nodded, reading my face as she is wont to do, a face which no one else can seem to penetrate. I felt a rising resentment at this, and a thousand other things. A man of opposites. Ah.

"We've named him Harry," Lily spoke at last.

Harry. Harry Potter. I could scarcely resist the sneer that came to my lip. "At least you ought to have given him a decent name. Name him for his father," I spat.

"I can't," Lily said almost voicelessly.

"Why not?"

"He doesn't know."

I froze. Suddenly my voice failed me as well, as what she implied took root in my heart. Fool that I am. _Fool that I am._

"His hair," I managed. "What color?"

"Black," Lily whispered. Potter's is indifferent brown at best.

"And his eyes?"

"Like mine," she returned, looking away.

I could scarcely breathe.

"So you think..."

She nodded mutely. I felt cold all over. _Fool that I am._

I fled her presence that day. Nothing can be proven. Nothing can be proven. The dark lord thinks the one to fulfill the prophecy of his downfall will be this child. If this is so, then Lily and the child are in great danger. I would do anything to protect them. Anything.

It is too dangerous to write of things like this now. In these days a mere look in the wrong direction at the wrong time can send you to Azkaban, let alone a tome filled with incriminating voicings of the soul.

I commit this journal to the flames. In spite of all, I would have Lily know that I love her. After all this time, and always. But no one can know.

No one

Can

Know


End file.
